


With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming

by planchette



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Scream (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blighted serum, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Bottom Danny, Bottom David, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuckolding, DAVID IS THE BOTTOM THIS IS NOT A DRILL, David has giant hands ok, Dubious Consent, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Femdom, Fighting Kink, Forgotten Memories, Horror, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Light Bondage, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Violence, Slow Dancing, Spit As Lube, Stalking, The Blight, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, boys smoking and breaking things lol, boys who like to watch, cigarettes and angst, gentleman! danny, is it from killing refined people, seriously why does danny have refined taste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 55,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planchette/pseuds/planchette
Summary: Critics agree this fic is "horny, romantic and scary."
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Reader, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/You, David King/Quentin Smith, Ghostface (Scream)/Reader, Quentin Smith/You
Comments: 121
Kudos: 465





	1. If it's a Crime, Then I'm Guilty

The first time he called, you were afraid. And drunk. And a little lonely.

It was Halloween night (typical) and you were abstaining from parties this year. You were single, having just taken a new job in a new town. Despite enjoying your work at the paper, you got the feeling none of your coworkers were in a hurry to get to know you. While being alone on Halloween wasn’t great, it also wasn’t the worst. This time last year you got far too drunk at a house party and endured potentially the worst hangover of your life. _This year would be different,_ you thought while pressing the power button of the television, channel surfing. _Even if it’s boring and sad beyond belief,_ you woefully thought, _it will be different_. Seeing that the movie _Scream_ was playing, you settled in with a glass of red wine, turning off the lights for an extra layer of spookiness. There was something very limiting about watching horror movies with the lights on and although you would never admit it, secretly you loved to be frightened.

At the climax of the film as its revealed that the killer was _both_ Billy and Stu, the phone rang from its place on the side table next to you. You jumped in surprise, taking the phone off the cradle and lifting it to your ear. All you could hear on the other end was the heavy breathing of a man. A chill ran through you as your mind wildly began tossing around ideas of what was happening. This is not real, your rationality quelled you. _Any moment now, this guy will speak and it will be totally unrelated and about something honestly stupid and-_

‘What’s your favorite horror movie?’

Spots formed in your vision, an anxiety attack brimming as you began to scan the room looking for the closest weapon. On one hand, it could be a prank call but no part of you wanted to take that risk. On the coffee table before you was your bong, the heaviest and unfortunately most lethal thing within grasp. As you brought it closer to yourself, you shakily answered the voice on the phone.

‘ _Friday the 13th_ ’ your face was flush, whether it was from the wine or the fear was unclear.

There was silence, and then a long low chuckle on the other end of the line. He sounded… excited. You were lowering the volume of the television when he spoke again, on cue:

‘Who’s the killer?’

This was the fateful moment that would decide how your evening would end, although you had no idea yet. It wouldn’t be until much later that this fact was revealed to you. You took a deep breath, hoping that your years of loving horror prepared you for this exact moment.

‘Pamela Voorhees’ you said, calmly. Of course, Drew Barrymore dies in the movie because she incorrectly states that the killer is Jason, while in reality Mrs. Voorhees had been committing the teen summer murders all along. There was long silence… and then laughter on the other end of the line, friendly. You nervously laughed along, something hysterical in your voice. What was happening? Could this still be a prank caller? Your mind was busy whirring with the possibilities that you had not noticed when the back door had opened and closed, the lock clicking.

‘Good answer.’

As he said this, his voice sounded closer than ever. In a burst of motion, you started to take a step forward to turn on the lights, and that’s when a black leather glove firmly pushed your shoulder, forcing your body back down into the couch. He was fast, too.

‘Don’t move.’

The man whispered, and as you slowly turned your head to the left, you saw a black and white Munchian silent scream staring back at you. Your mouth fell, lungs heaving for air to scream and the leather glove on your shoulder twisted itself into your hair, yanking your head back painfully.

‘Don’t scream, either.’

The masked man remarked curtly, shoving your head and standing up from his crouched position. He ended the call, slipping away his clunky cellular phone beneath the swaths of black heavy fabric and leather he wore. Then he reached for the phone in your hand, resting it back into its cradle and putting it on the other side of the couch out of reach. He pried your other hand off the bong, a small chuckle emitting from the mask as he placed it out of reach behind the couch. You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t yell for help. You bucked once again, trying to wrench out of reach of his grip and make your escape but he was stronger than you anticipated. As he manhandled you into submission once more, a long knife came to rest beside your cheek.

‘You only have one chance to be good, darling. Don’t test me, please.’

The knife withdrew and you heard the heavy clunking of combat boots crossing from behind the couch to in front of it, and all at once you saw his looming presence as it blocked the rolling credits of Scream. He was tall and slender, clad in an all-black coat that hung on him like a dense shadow. A long hood draped over his head, a cheap Spirit Halloween mask on his face. The same one from the movie you thought bitterly to yourself, admiring the unfortunate coincidence of it all. He kneeled before you and you winced in fear. He simply cocked his head and gave your cheek a pinch,

‘Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you.’

You snorted sarcastically, an ugly sound and to both of your surprise he laughed along with you. He had a tinkling laugh, melodic and soft. The laughter was cut short when he began to bind your wrists together with straps pulled from within his cloak. Your heartbeat picked up, still unsure of what your fate might be tonight. The masked man left you on the couch alone again, stepping away confidently to the corner of your living room where your sticker-plastered boom box was (like he had been here before). He pressed play on the apparatus, resuming the last thing you were listening to. It was a mix CD, as you were very particular about what you liked to listen to and the radio didn’t always cut it. This disc featured mostly wartime ballads from the 1930’s and 1940’s, a mix that appealed to the cinematic lover within you. When you listened to this music it transported you to another life, one where you had friends, a lover and life was exciting. The haunting harmonies of Patti Page and her backup singers filled the dark room,

_‘With my eyes wide open I’m dreaming_

_Can it be true I’m holding you close to my heart?’_

In one swift motion he returned to you on the couch and pulled you into him by your bound wrists, holding you close in a slow dance. He was pressing you into him… a little too tight, and you could smell a sharp cologne scent on him. He aligned your feet on top of his, synchronizing the two of you in a perfect waltz around the room like you were a little doll and he your puppeteer. The masked man sighed seemingly content,

 _‘_ This is nice.’

Even though all you could think about was the knife he had on his person and who knows what else, you found yourself nodding in agreement. You lifted your gaze to meet your captors (does it count if it’s your house and it’s like 65% consensual? Look, you weren’t sure what was happening tonight but if this was the end, you were going to make the most of it) eyes and peered into the endless black pools of his mask. Something in his hold of you stiffened and you felt the effect even just your gaze had on him. What did this guy want from you? A bravery of sorts began to build in your chest as you mused aloud,

‘You know, you’re very lucky this is where I left off. Earlier this evening I was listening to something way more embarrassing and with less danceability. This is definitely the cooler side of my music taste.’

The masked man nodded and laughed, ‘I know.’ Something in you chilled as he dipped you along to the music, ‘But you really shouldn’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute you like No Doubt so much.’

 _How did he know?_ And if he knew that, you thought as your stomach sank, _what else did he know?_

The two of you resumed in swaying around the room. There was silence for the remainder of the song. The next 30’s ballad, Al Bowlly’s ‘Guilty’ began to play.

‘So, are you some kind of cybercriminal?’ You said dumbly to him.

He chuckled in response, ‘No, just a regular old stalker. Although, I was prepared to blackmail you with your private social media and banking information if you didn’t comply. This way is easier, and much nicer for both of us.’

Even as your pulse quickened and a throbbing instinct to _runrunrun_ bore its way into your skull, you couldn’t help but feel hypnotized by this strange creature. You wondered what he was like outside of this. Were you his first victim? Or one of many? Did he normally dance with women until he killed them? Feeling your focus leave the two of you, the masked man grabbed you by your cheeks forcing your gaze to fall back on him.

‘I know we’re having a good time, but don’t forget what’s happening here.’ He spoke coldly. There was more silence, but his grip loosened on you as you continued to loop around the room. Again, the bravery had built inside of you to speak.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ At last, you said it. Your fear had mounted, anticipating his response. The fantasy may be ending soon.

‘No, not tonight.’

He said casually, twirling you away from him and then collecting you back on top of his feet. You were dizzy from the spin, as well as the situation you found yourself in. A momentary calm swept over you but was soon replaced by the existential dread of the phrase ‘not tonight’. Sensing this, the masked man changed the subject.

‘I like your voice. The way you sing, it’s beautiful.’

The only time you ever sang was in the shower, or complacently in the kitchen as you cooked dinner. You were not a public singer, and your face flushed with shame again because this man must have been watching you for a very long time.

‘Sing me something,’ he prodded, shifting the two of you over to turn off the music. You nervously shook your head, an instinctual move from a time when your life wasn’t on the line. But that wasn’t now, and you realized that as the man suddenly threw you to the ground and stood over you. He slowly knelt, lightly sitting on you and pinning you in place. He had not placed enough weight on you to hurt you or inhibit your lungs, but enough that if you tried to scramble away you would not get far.

‘Sing me something, please. Don’t make me beg.’

It’s in this position that you felt the stiffness of his erection pushing against your stomach. Horror and intense curiosity stirred in between your legs at this demonstration of attraction. You nodded, slowly agreeing. You were hoping he would get off of you so you could sit up and collect yourself, but he did not. He stared expectantly at you from behind the mask. Taking a breath shakily, you began to sing the first thing that came to mind, eyes pricking with nervous tears,

‘ _You’re my thrill_

_You do something to me_

_You send chills right through me_

_When I look at you, ‘cause you’re my thrill’_

When your voice hit those first notes, you could feel his dick twitch against you. _Oh_ , you thought to yourself, _that’s a little romantic, all things considered_. When you stopped at the end of the verse, he nudged you to continue. As you sang the gloomy jazz tune, confidence and power grew in your voice. Part of you enjoyed this intense display of adoration, a man driven to violence for the opportunity to listen to you do something you considered a mundane hobby. You hardly believed yourself when your bound hands lifted to pet the crotch of the man’s pants. He sighed audibly, obviously taken with how gently you touched him. He shook his head, hastily shrugging off his cloak to reveal a black thermal shirt underneath that clung to his lithe body. He leaned his hips forward, groaning pleasantly at the friction it created between himself and your stomach. He undid his belt and pant button, pulling a painfully erect cock out. It was pink and swollen with arousal, obvious he wanted you. Drawing the attention away from his penis (which it should be noted, was quite nice looking. It had been a long time since you had felt particularly moved by the male anatomy but this was doing something for you) he angled your bound hands to your face.

‘Spit.’ He said quietly, and you complied cupping the saliva in your palms. He moved your hands back to his throbbing hard on, folding them into prayer around it. He moaned darkly, as he began to move himself carefully between your saliva-coated hands. As the hard blush deepened in your cheeks he uttered intensely between thrusts,

‘Sing’ and you complied, picking up the next verse. This was probably the strangest sexual encounter you had ever experienced, but judging by the growing dampness between your thighs, it was not objectionable. After a particularly expressive gasp, the man pulled himself away from you, grabbing you by your hand bindings and raising you to your feet. Quickly, he flipped you around, pushing you over the couch. Carefully, he lifted the back of your night gown, gasping at the sight of your wet cunt.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said lightly and you could hear the smile in his voice. At first you flinched, as he drew circles around the lips of your pussy with his leather gloves, following the shape of each curve and fold in adoration. You didn’t even have time to react to this when he began to slowly enter you, savoring every inch of depth inside. The two of you moaned together, the sound causing a delicious and twisted thrumming in the pit of your core. He worked himself in and out of you slowly with great emphasis. As he built his rhythm, one hand found its way to your clit and began twirling circles around it. The other hand came to grasp your left breast, palming it harshly. It felt good, a deep pleasure that made you gasp in spite of yourself. It was so much all at once, your senses becoming blind to anything other than the building orgasm inside. You writhed beneath him, pushing back against his thrusts to create a harsh slapping sound of skin on skin. In that moment, you said the only words in your mind,

‘Why me?’ gasping breathily as he slammed into you. His answer was almost immediate, sounding almost annoyed at your ignorance,

‘It’s always been you.’

Then without warning, something inside you snapped and you cried out as you came around him, bucking your hips wildly as your inner walls squeezed around his cock. He pushed you even farther over the couch, leaning his entire weight over you, his face next to yours. As he pounded deeply into you, he quietly grunted your name over and over into your ear. Suddenly, there was a white hot sensation inside you and you could tell he had let his seed go. He pumped into you a few more times, head curled into your neck, frantically chasing the remains of his own orgasm. Your body went limp, totally used and spent by the ghost of a man behind you. Without a sound, he stood up and pulled your night gown back down, adjusting his flaccid member back into his pants. When he removed himself from within you, your body rioted at the absence of his warmth. You adjusted, turning around to face him as he removed his knife from his hip. Your eyes widened and then calmed as he simply cut the binding of your wrists. As he unceremoniously walked away from you, shouldering his cloak back on you couldn’t help but ask,

‘Will I see you again?’ He turned around, and nodded. You walked to catch up with him, sore and shivering a bit as his cum leaked down the inside of your leg. He waited expectantly.

‘Can I see what you look like?’ you asked, gently.

‘Do you want to see me again?’ He asked calmly, and you nodded your head honestly.

‘Then, no.’

He exited, this time out the front door. The ringing of doorbells and shouting of trick or treating children resumed outside, unknowing of what transpired at your residence this evening. He offered a small wave from the porch, and then disappeared back into the dark. You waved back, taking a moment to see how fucking normal your living room still looked despite what had just happened to you. After a moment you went to the window to see if you could spot him walking down the street, but he was long gone. When you closed the door, you locked it. Padding back to the television, you could see that the opening sequence of _Scream_ was playing again. As Drew Barrymore’s face appeared on the screen, you quickly powered the television off.

‘Ugh, I hate reruns.’ You said to the darkness.

As odd as it sounds, you accepted your new routine with your ghost lover. After one embarrassing doctor’s appointment and a negative pregnancy test, you got an IUD- a copper antenna deep in your cervix preventing unwanted and anonymous pregnancies.

Some nights, he would politely knock on your bedroom window, just to come and lay his head in your lap as you sang to him, leaving as he came once you were asleep. Other nights he would rip open the shower curtain while you were inside bathing, ignoring your screams and pulling you out, violently fucking you into the bathroom tile, heart pounding in your ears from fear. Those nights, more often than not, he was covered in blood. You never asked, and that’s why he kept coming back.

No part of you was concerned about dying anymore. If anything, you felt more certain in death than anything else. You were already dead, a future victim of your lover and living on borrowed time. Someday he would take you out of this world, but for now you were going to take advantage of life’s final kindnesses. In ways, you could relate to him as you felt like a spirit in your own life. You were unnoticeable at work, just the new girl in the corner cubicle who did captions. Once a day, a man named Jed would throw a stack of photos on your desk. All day you read the corresponding articles and wrote neat little captions to accompany each one. It was fun and made good money, but it was mindless. At the end of the day, Jed would come back and pick them up with a nod. That was sort of the extent of your social life.

You went to the movies, a lot. Crying along with the hero on screen as they made an agonizing decision, or quaking with fear as the main trio plotted their escape from their killer, you longed for more. Yes, you had your silent stalker… but even that had its limitations. He didn’t speak much, out of fear of recognition or disinterest you weren’t sure. He made love to you powerfully, giving you orgasms you had only dreamed of… but there were no high stakes. Even though he occasionally still threatened you, the two of you knew he had no plans of murdering you soon. Maybe the ghost was lonely too. In some ways, you were just in a long term relationship with a mentally unstable man in a mask. And although months had passed you had made no attempt to tell anyone or contact authorities about the masked man visits and the citywide murder spree coinciding.

At times, it felt like you were cheating fate, having managed to go unnoticed long enough to beat the system. In any other story, you would have been dead by now, another faceless victim taken by the Roseville Ghostface (you learned his alias after the paper began to cover him) but here you were, very much alive, laughing and moaning greedily into the face of Death as his hips bucked into yours.

Good things never last, do they?

It was three in the morning and the specter was visiting you. Well, if languidly fucking you as you rode him counted as ‘visiting’, anyway. Your head was tossed back, hips rolling toward a mouth-numbing orgasm and your hands began to reach toward the man before you, trying to find something to hold onto. He was breathing wildly, his hands forming bruises in your thighs as he gripped them harshly. There was nothing to prevent you as you grabbed at fabric randomly, and in one swift miscalculation tore the hood and mask off his head. You both gasped, white hot fear pulsating inside you. There was enough time to see a shock of white blonde hair, and a set of round blue eyes with long eyelashes, wide with horror.

As a surprise to you both, that’s when the Fog enveloped you.

In some ways, you figured that this would come to an end eventually. Although, you usually assumed it would be because of your gruesome murder. Bloody pieces of you scattered around the city, accompanied by ominous notes penned in the Ghostface’s twitchy and wild script. Not like this- it felt like dreaming, the scent of heather and lavender overwhelming the senses until you lost the ability to recognize where your body ended and the Fog began. It was a soothing feeling, even as an otherworldly presence loomed behind you, coiling its grip around you tighter and tighter. As you faded into slumber, a spectral voice kissed its message into your spinal cord:

_This is my gift to you._

When you awoke again, you were in a dense forested area. There were large piles of lumber surrounding a sputtering generator, a two-story log house in the distance. It was raining.

In the distance, you could hear a woman scream.


	2. Behind Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny leaves behind his alter ego of Jed Olsen, embracing his identity in the Fog. 
> 
> A continuation of With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming and Gf/Reader's relationship in the Fog

Danny liked the outfits.

Out of all the gifts the Entity gave him, he had to admit the clothes were something else.

He gazed at himself in the mirror of a small wooden vanity, admiring the symmetry of his classically handsome face cast in shadow by the oil lamp that hung on the wall. While Danny wasn’t quite sure which hell dimension he found himself in, he had to admit that its queen, the Entity really knew how to treat a guest. During the trials, he could see that not all the men favored as well as he with Her, and it showed in their appearances alone. Danny’s outfit, a black leather duster and hood, was tailored to fit his form with comfort and ease. While his mask in life was a cheap plastic purchase, here it was solid and durable.

The one with the glasses always looked like he rolled out of the dumpster behind an Office Max.

Danny chuckled a bit at his own joke; lips parted in a small grin, showing off the small gap between his two front teeth, the only quirk in an otherwise perfect smile. Although he wore a mask when he killed, it was that smile and _Jed_ (he sneered at his false identity's name) who really committed the murder; the kind and approachable Jed, who gathered information and allowed the mark to get comfortable and let their guard down. _Jed_ was the one who lured the victim into a false sense of security so when the moment came- Danny was just the guy holding the knife.

Danny grinned even wider now. But here? Here, Jed was gone. There was no need for Jed. For first time in his existence _(well,_ he hoped _, and the times with her-)_ , someone wanted Danny over Jed. And Danny was going to do whatever it took to stay in the good graces of the Entity. It also didn’t hurt that what the Entity wanted him to do was systematically trap and kill complete strangers in a series of murderous games for the rest of eternity.

Because it turned out, Danny was _really_ good at that.

A cathedral toll clanged out in the distance, a signal to begin walking into the Fog and his next trial. Shooting himself one last wink in the mirror, he grabbed his ever faithful mask and slunk toward the door. So what if he was a little vain? A man had to know his own worth, right? He stepped into the rainy red forest from his small bungalow cabin, one of many small nests filled with his belongings scattered across the Fog. The Entity had given him many things, but no home to call his own. Of course, that suited Danny just fine. In life, he had been a drifter, his 'extracurricular activities' taking him all around the country only stopping in each place for a few months at a time. Moving around was familiar to him.

He breathed deep, taking in the rich botanical scent of the Fog and pictured where he wanted to go to satiate his bloodlust today. This part he had trouble with. Danny was a very literal person, and while he appreciated the Entity’s cool satanic magic he had never had a very good imagination. His mind sort of just wandered wherever it wanted to (Usually murder or… Puccini), and he struggled guiding it in any specific direction.

As usual, in his efforts to conjure the cold snow of the Ormond resort, all he could see was her.

Danny prided himself on not having loose ends in the mortal world. So many of his killer counterparts regaled him with tragic origin tales filled with woe, and how their souls were now being held in a pact of murder with the Entity as their cruel mistress. Danny boasted no friends and family, having completed his work in the mortal realm and now simply beginning a new chapter in the Fog. He liked to stab things, and that was as complicated he was willing to get with the others.

No loose ends. Well, all but one.

He still hadn’t seen her here. So far in the trials he had encountered about six or seven faces. Danny didn’t care much for people and so some of the burly men blurred together in his mind from lack of interest, but he was certain he had only seen three women and none of them were her.

 _What if she wasn’t here?_ His heart thumped frantically at the idea, angry that this was the one subject the Entity left him silent on. No matter how well he did in a trial, any time he tried to ask Her about the one he left behind, he received nothing. Complete radio silence.

It made him want to break things.

Something tickled him, soothing the angry twinge growing in his temple. A breeze blew upon him, and he knew it was the Entity playing with the strands of his costume. She loved him and wanted to appease him- When Danny first came to the Fog, the Entity told him how he was specifically picked by Her to be here. That She had been watching him for a long time, desperately wanting him to become one of Her dark children and enact Her commands in the dimly lit arenas. When he killed, he could feel Her kill with him, feeding off his desire to inflict harm and take lives. She never had to torture him to comply, the way She did with the others. Danny was good, and knew how to follow orders but now he was getting impatient.

Outside of the trials when he roamed the woods, he could hear her voice in the brush like an echo. It was maddening, the way he could hear her but had no physical manifestation to prove that she was indeed her. Danny couldn’t understand why the Entity continued to keep him away from the woman, maybe it was because he was weak. As a mortal, he had made the mistake of hesitating when given the opportunity to strike her, and the Entity knew this. Perhaps She didn’t trust him not to make this mistake again? Danny shook the idea from his mind and returned to the task at hand.

He rolled his eyes, annoyed by Her motherly cooing. He wasn’t a child, and didn’t need this constant cheerleading just to use his fucking imagination.

Danny adjusted his neck and cracked his joints in a stretch before closing his eyes once more, taking a deep breath.

When he opened them again, there was wet snow gathering on the curved mouth of his mask, and he could smell a burning fireplace as well as the fresh and pungent scent of pine trees. As he began to search the area for signs of life, his mind drifted again to her.

Pitifully, he thought he could have done that forever with her. Stalking her anonymously at work by day, fulfilling his ugly but powerful need to _hurtkillpunish_ by night, and still having her to look at, be soft with, adore. He knew she was afraid of him, but he didn’t mind. Everyone was afraid of the Ghostface, the silent killer born in a nightmare. And even with that fear, she stayed and found someone beyond the mask. _And last he had seen her, she had seen him without the mask-_

Danny didn't want to think about that.

He wanted to kill her the first time they met, at an early morning meeting over font size editing. Peering at her across the table over Styrofoam cups of steaming coffee, every rise and fall of her chest in her polka dotted pussybow blouse was pure agony to him. He wanted to cup her lungs in his bare hands and feel the way they contracted with air. He wanted to hang her from the ceiling and stick her like a pig, collecting her blood to bathe in it. He wanted to ram his cock inside of her handcuffed and twitching body, while he disemboweled her. He wanted to kiss her.

Feelings were not interesting to Danny. He liked complicated music that featured seventh chords, Russian literature about death and seeing the life drain from mortal eyes. He didn’t like the way his stomach sloshed when he looked at her, lunch threatening to make a repeat appearance. Initially, it was supposed to be a quick procedure. She had just moved, she had no friends and he knew her work schedule. Normally, he could have accomplished such a flimsy task in his sleep. But when he approached the back door of her newly leased and unfurnished house, he heard her sing and a chill ran through him. He stood by the windows, watching her unpack her kitchen tools from cardboard boxes as she softly sang a tune, humming the melody when she didn’t know the words and it made him feel things he as of yet did not know how to describe. He hardly noticed the hours tick by as he followed her to her room, watching her sleep through the night until the alarm beside her bed chimed her awake. Danny had called out sick from work that day, ill with exhaustion and confusion.

Why hadn’t he killed her when he had the chance? It’s not like the sexual attraction was new. Danny was charming, intelligent and good-looking so naturally he was sexually active, bringing a multitude of guests home with him. However, he normally killed them and buried them in unmarked graves afterward. He couldn’t kill her, and he wouldn’t stoop so low to allow Jed to try and seduce her. Jed was unworthy of such a task and besides, Danny was the one who wanted her. And he wanted her to know him as Danny, the real Danny, not Jed, a facsimile of a man and cheap trick used against his victims.

Jed was unworthy of licking the underside of her boot.

Something shifted in the corner of Danny’s eye, his attention whipping back to the trial. He investigated the source, and swiftly pulled open the red metal doors of a locker finding a large bearded man with long dark hair and a scar on his surprised face.

 _Dumb ass,_ the Ghost thought to himself, as he yanked the man out and hoisted him over his shoulder. As he traveled toward his destination, the man wiggled in Danny’s grasp, kicking his doc martens in an attempt to escape his fate. There was simply no point, and Danny easily tossed him on to the hook, admiring the sight. The man on the hook sighed in defeat, mumbling ‘awh man…’ to himself, a depressing picture that made Danny laugh a bit before moving on. He was never one to stay near the area of his most recently hooked victim- it felt desperate and made the game too easy to win. He would catch up with that later.

The trial ended quickly, as he easily fooled the other three survivors- all but one new faces to him. It was clear they had never encountered a killer like him before, one that moved like a shadow. He was concerned that he had almost lost the last one, a young redhead and the fastest among the group. Rounding a corner he had almost lost her to the hatch, but when she hesitated he swiftly pulled her back out of the escape by the collar of her track jacket. She screamed and thrashed, claiming that _any other killer would let her take the hatch, she had earned it-_

Danny laughed in her face as she crumpled on the hook, finally taken by the Entity. A heavy whooshing sound echoed throughout the arena marking the end of the trial. For extra measure, he closed the hatch with gravitas, a cherry on top of another perfect murder spree. He knew they never died for real, but the light left their eyes the same way it did on Earth and that worked for Danny just fine. Blood was blood. If anything, he now had all the time in the world to get all cozy and personal with each of his eternal victims. He could not have conceived of a more ideal situation.

Strolling out the now open exit gates, he decided to lurk on his peers and monitor their own progress. Through some trial and error, he had discovered he was able to view other killers’ matches, the caveat being that he was mostly undetectable to the survivors and unable to interact with them or the physical environment. The Entity spelled it out pretty clear: You can look, but don’t touch.

Haddonfield opened up before him, an otherwise quaint neighborhood street now filled with the Entity’s ideas on human life and games. The streetlamps buzzed with electricity and he stealthily climbed the terrace along one of the houses to watch the match unfold below him. From his perch, Danny could see two survivors working on a generator at the head of the street. There was one looting a chest in the far corner of the map, and one repairing a generator directly beneath him, inside the second story of the house. He still hadn’t seen the killer of the match, which left him with a few guesses of who it could be.

He had his money on the Wraith until he heard the frantic breath and quick scrambling of boots up the stairs and the guttural scream of the man beneath him as a sharp blade came in contact with his soft flesh. He vaulted out the window below and as the killer followed him onto the awning, studded leather jacket gleaming in the moonlight Danny recognized him as one of those insufferable Legion kids.

The sharp combat knife came in contact with the older man a second time and he screamed again, a lit cigarette dropping from his lips as he jumped off the awning and headed for cover. The kid followed him, agile in his skateboarding shoes and ripped jeans. It was an easy down, and as the old veteran was hooked, the masked man looked back at the generator and Danny could see a skull mask staring in his direction. Danny flattened himself against the building, choosing to remain hidden, and the kid clambered back up to kick the generator. An explosion of resistance came from a generator at the other end of the street and he quickly vaulted back out the window and into the night. Danny took this moment to climb to an even higher peak of the map, carefully inspecting the coordinated moves of this team as they maneuvered the field. The Legion kid was quick to keep up but definitely struggling, frequently missing his mark with slashes of his knife. _It was too bad, he had such a strong start,_ Danny thought as the warning lights flared, denoting that the exit gates could now be powered on.

The young killer patrolling the streets growled in defeated rage, a burst in his step as he chased toward the gate hacking at anything in sight. Danny laughed, nodding in approval when he made contact with two different survivors who both fell to the ground from their injuries. It was hilarious to Danny, seeing how fast an entire team’s hope could be ripped apart with a single motion. He was laughing so hard that he hardly recognized the scream when her body came in contact with the hook.

The second body was going on the hook as Danny pawed his way closer to the first hooked survivor, a wave of nausea passing through him. The fourth survivor looked at the harrowing situation, and finished powering the gate only to slip away without regard for the rest of his team. That left only the old man, having to choose between the two hooked survivors who got to escape the match.

‘Bill, please…. Bill, please don’t leave me…’

His stomach lurched, close enough now that he could see it was in fact her on the first hook. Her face was pink and damp with sweat and tears and he felt hot seeing the way the hook embedded itself in her shoulder. The Legion kid was around the corner, waiting in anticipation for Bill to come and rescue her. The old man must’ve known this, as the sound of the second survivor being unhooked echoed across the field. The killer sighed in frustration at being outdone again, taking off in that direction with his knife ready to strike.

Danny was frozen, simply a spectator in this match and unable to intervene. He had cursed the Entity for making him see his obsession suffer at the hands of another man, when to his surprise he saw Bill rescuing the hooked woman as well. She cried out in relief, and Danny sighed at the sound, watching she and Bill hobble toward the gate. The third survivor was waving them forward from the mouth of the exit, having recently lost the killer nearby.

She was inches away from freedom, right behind her comrades when she was grabbed by the waist and thrown away from the gate onto the ground, wet blood pouring from her forearm where she had been slashed. The Legion kid dug his blade into the back of her ankle and she wailed in agony, as he used that leverage to pull her closer to him. He flipped her around, planting the blade in between her breasts and pulling down as if she were a sack of meat, blood and intestines oozing from the large wound.

It was a gruesome sight, and Danny felt something dark begin to boil inside him from anger and jealousy. He fucking hated it when other people touched his stuff.

The Legion kid stood, wiping his blade distractedly on his jacket, kicking her head aside as he walked through the gate into the Fog.

Blind rage built in Danny’s chest as he watched the woman choke to death on her own blood, her body finally fading into the earth, returning her to the campfire.

Yeah, Danny didn’t like that. And he was going to show that Legion kid his mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm whats danny gonna do to joey  
> also why wont the entity let him see his lady pal?? :(
> 
> comment your thoughts! this is not what i was expecting to write next for this but this is what my hands did.


	3. Last Night I Met a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostface and Reader encounter each other for the first time in the Fog. It doesn't go how you think it's gonna go. Also Joey's there.

‘Get off me, you fucking freak! Get the _fuck_ away from me, what are you doing?’

The sound of screaming and splintering wood startled you awake. As the bleariness cleared from your eyes, you could make out the sight of a man tied to a chair, kicking and thrashing as another man stood over him with something shiny and metal in his hand.

‘C’mon, Joey…’ a sinister voice hissed, ‘Don’t you wanna play a game? I thought you liked games.’ There was another scream, ‘Gotta love rolling around in the mud with the fellas…’

As the seriousness of the situation dawned on you, you attempted to rise from where you sat and escape. Of course, you were also tied to a chair with your mouth taped shut, the sickly plastic scent filling your nose. Looking around, you could tell the three of you were on the second floor of an ornate abandoned cathedral, tall stained glass panels casting a rainbow of light on the gruesome scene below. There were shimmering little pearls scattered on the stone tile beneath you, and with horror you realized they were actually bloody human teeth; a morbid assortment of molars and a few canines intermixed, floating in a soup of dark red blood. Lying deflated and defeated nearby was a soft fabric mask with a skull design.

The man in the chair was the Legion kid from your match the other day. _The one who gutted me like a pig_ , you thought with remorse. It was hard to recognize him without his mask, but even if you did know what he looked like without it there was no way you would’ve recognized him now: his cheeks were puffy from tooth extraction, making his strong jaw inflate like a chipmunks. One of his eyes was swollen shut, the early signs of a bruise forming. His cheeks were wet with undeniable tears, snot pathetically dribbling out of his nose. He looked so young.

He was always so scary in the trials, but now without his mask or knife he seemed no more to you than a mere child.

‘Frank’s gonna find out about this, and we’re gonna fucking kill you’ Joey snarled, thrashing in his chair again. The man above him smacked him deftly in the face with the metal pliers he had been holding; Joey yelped in pain, eyes rolling back from the throbbing agony in his mouth.

‘No one’s going anywhere until you learn your lesson.’ The serious and calculated timbre of his voice made you involuntarily shudder. He crossed behind Joey and with his ghoulish mask in full view now you could tell at last it was the Ghostface. So, he was here, after all.

By now, you had stopped searching for him. When you first came to the Fog, you were a mess of emotions and raw adrenaline; suddenly, your entire life had been flipped upside down again. No matter what you did, you always felt his absence tugging at you; an unsettling feeling, like when you walk down the stairs and think there’s an extra step but it’s just the ground. At night, you left the campfire and roamed the misty woods in search of your specter. Eventually, you found you had stopped looking in the shadows, figuring that if he was indeed there, he would have made himself known to you by now. Either he wasn’t there at all, or (and this part made you feel ill) he had finally moved on, enraptured now by someone else in this endless playground of cruelty and dissonance. It pained you, but you couldn’t blame him for staying true to his nature; as your heart broke, you kept your head down and set your mind on conquering the game. You had learned the ropes, gaining skill and precision with each trial. You were escaping more often, finding useful items in the match and tricking your enemies. When you weren’t running for your life, you were making friends around the campfire and learning more about the ancient realm you found yourself in. You had grown to stop fearing the dark, running toward it instead. You had become a stronger version of yourself, and it was a little exciting to you. No more just a timid girl hiding in the back; now you were assertive and confrontational, knowing when to run and when to fight back.

Seeing him now, his mask bathed in a tie dye of green and red light as he held one hand tight in Joey’s curls, the other gripping the metal pliers impatiently, felt like a weird lucid dream. He straightened up, cocking his head at you,

‘Look who finally decided to wake up.’

He sauntered toward you, twirling the pliers in his hand lightly, a tinkling laugh filling the vestibule. He gripped your chin between his gloved fingers, staining your face with Joey’s blood.

‘Sorry we started without you. You know me; I can get a little impatient,’ his tone was pleasant but there was an insidious and unfamiliar edge to it. 

You attempted to reply and mumbled something stupidly, forgetting the tape over your mouth. The Ghostface laughed at your foolish misstep, walking so he was equidistant between you and Joey.

‘Now, I’m sure you’re both very curious as to why I called this meeting today,’ he said jovially. ‘It seems there has been some kind of a mistake, an error of sorts made by a fellow coworker,’ he pointed the pliers at Joey, ‘in regards to borrowing my supplies without permission,’ he pointed at you.

‘What are you talking about, man? We’re supposed to kill them,’ Joey garbled, speech slurred by bloody spittle and swollen gums. Ghostface pivoted toward him again,

‘No! You see, Joey, _sweet Joey_ ; that is where you’re wrong. We are not supposed to _kill_ them; we are supposed to _sacrifice_ them. It's an important distinction. How quickly you forget the rules, dear Joey!’ The man rattled, words tumbling out incoherently, as he frantically paced to and from the young man in the chair. He didn't seem like himself.

‘Killing is intimate. And here, it’s a rare occasion; in a lot of ways it becomes special and personal. It’s not often we get to take a life just for ourselves, so imagine my surprise and disbelief when I find _you_ ,’ the malice in his voice is palpable, ‘sticking your disgusting thimble prick of a blade into _my girl_.’ The way he punctuates ‘my girl’ with emphasis sends chills down your spine, threatening arousal in spite of yourself.

The ghost grabbed Joey by the neck, ramming the pliers back into his abused mouth for another tooth. The bound man howled as his captor ripped out one small pearly white, strings of bloody gum tissue coming out with it. Joey slouched in the chair, dangerously close to passing out from pain and blood loss, as Ghostface brought the tooth into the light, examining it as if it were a diamond. There was deafening silence for what felt like an eternity, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears because you were scared _really scared_ , for the first time in a long time since arriving in the Fog.

Still slouched, a low and hysterical laugh emitted from Joey, his body shaking with each hiccup of laughter.

‘Oh my god,’ he moaned in realization, between chuckles, ‘Do you _like_ her or something?’

The still masked man froze, as Joey wheezed, tears brimming in his eyes from the sick humor of it all.

‘I heard you were weird but that is fucking _weird_. Do you always play with your food before you eat it, freak?’ His mouth was drooling, spitting flecks of bloody saliva with each word. He was goading the other man, and it was working.

‘Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up,’Ghostface seethed, body tensing in anger.

‘Oh man, now that I have this dirt on you, you’re done, Ghosty. You’re weak, man, just a love sick little stalker, I feel bad for pathetic trash like-‘

Silent and still as night, Ghostface leaped and plunged his knife into your side to the hilt. A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, eyes widening at the blood staining your clothes. No one (maybe not even Ghostface) saw that one coming.

And then the pain came, oh the pain-

Ghostface feverishly dug his weapon into you a second time, leaving it in place; a macabre sheath for his blade. He stepped away ignoring your cries of pain (oh my god the pain), taking a deep breath and clearing his throat,

‘See, Joey? She’s nothing, no one to me; just another lamb to the slaughter. I do not-‘he took a moment to rip his blade out, refusing to acknowledge how you shook with pain from the quick removal, ‘care about her. That being said, I brought her here and I don’t like to share my toys.’ He wiped his blade on his cloak absent-mindedly,

‘I hope you can respect that.’ Ghostface finished calmly.

Joey laughed hysterically, finally appealing to his captor in a delirious last ditch effort,

‘Well gee, Ghosty. How was I supposed to know? It’s not like she had your name written on her or anything. If I had known she was yours, I wouldn’t have given her so much grief.’ He snorted, hocking a wad of bloody phlegm onto the ground,

‘Scout’s honor,’ he finished darkly, eyes flitting in your direction briefly.

Ghostface paused, considering Joey’s words for a moment.

‘You know what? You’re right, Joey. And you’ve given me something to consider: There really is no way to tell that she’s mine,’ You could hear the wicked grin in his voice, ‘but I can fix that.’

A whimper gathered in your throat as Ghostface approached you, turning into heaving sobs as he carefully sliced open the shirtwaist dress you were wearing; Buttons popped off one at a time as he dragged the knife up the length of the garment, exposing your bare skin as it turned to goose flesh in the cool autumnal breeze. The soft cotton of your bra betrayed you, hard nipples poking out from beneath the thin fabric. He pinched them experimentally, enjoying the way you wriggled in your seat at his touch. Joey grunted approvingly at the erotic display, and Ghostface took it as a sign to continue. Again he attacked your clothing with his blade, ripping away your lacy slip in one swift movement leaving you exposed in only a bra and panties. You shuddered at the cold leather of his gloves as he gripped your sides callously, sliding down your underwear as he crouched before you. He roughly shoved your knees apart so that nothing could deprive him of access to your sex; breathing shakily beneath the mask, he admired what he saw. You were glistening with your own wetness, embarrassing to you but a thrilling sight that set both men on edge. Across from you, Joey quietly cursed under his breath.

Ghostface said nothing as he slowly started to play with the lips of your cunt, easing one digit inside of you. You moaned hard, hips sinking onto his hand in ecstasy; it had been so long since you had felt any degree of pleasure, a concept now foreign to you. You could hear Joey gasp at your depraved sound, dizzy and aroused. Another digit buried its way inside, your walls clenching desperately at the sensation. You closed your eyes, basking in the waves of arousal that shook you to your core. As Ghostface fingered you, white hot pricks of pain formed in your middle; you had assumed it to be a side effect of your mounting orgasm but when you opened your eyes, you found he was carving something into your abdomen.

You screamed, and you could hear Joey raucously laughing, a bloodthirsty and crazed audience of this humiliating show.

 _‘Hey, stay with me,’_ Ghostface snarled in your face, pressing down on your throbbing clit with his thumb as he continued to work inside you. You stared down, overwhelmed with pleasure and hyperventilating as he completed the last letter of the single noun inscribed in your skin:

Danny.

The blood loss must have gotten to you at last, as spots gathered in your vision. You felt yourself drift away from the cathedral, warmth gathering like a woolen blanket around you. Far away, you could hear Ghostface stomp away from you and slit Joey’s throat in a single motion, the wet sounds echoing throughout the church; apparently, Joey was of no use to Ghostface anymore, his purpose fulfilled. You let the sounds fade away like a bad dream, chasing the warmth you had just felt. It would have been so nice to just stay in that moment; no more trials, no more blood, just a long nap because you were so tired-

The crunching of dead leaves underfoot rustled you awake, and you found yourself by the campfire again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was worried my danny wasnt mean enough, so i wrote this
> 
> oops
> 
> your comments and feedback totally make my day. thank you for your words, and continue to leave your thoughts!


	4. You're the Devil in Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Entity decides its time you and Ghostface had a talk.

It’s truly amazing how resilient the human spirit is. The way humans continue to get back up, brush themselves off and try again. Even in the most fraught scenarios where sudden death becomes inevitable, mankind perseveres in the face of danger, giving it the proverbial ‘good old college try’. Living to fight another day.

A lot of things happened in the Entity’s realm that none of you could explain. When something particularly grim or mysterious occurred, someone would simply roll their eyes or knock a fist against wood superstitiously, sighing ‘Ugh, the Entity’ knowingly.

It had become a common phrase among the survivors; a shorthand that bound them together in this miserable existence between life and death. In the way that veterans acknowledged each other, brothers in the muddy trenches, there were just some things only the survivors in the Entity’s realm could understand.

Everyone had wanted to know what had happened to you, when David had found you unconscious beside the fire. After your most recent match, you hadn’t returned to the campfire with everyone else and the pack had begun to grow worried. They crowded around you, Claudette pulling on your clothes with bandages nearby searching for potential wounds but finding none. You quickly shoved off their caring advances, standing and putting some distance between you and the group. Kate was the one who had the guts to cross her arms and finally ask,

‘So? What happened?’

The events at the cathedral washed over you again, a terrible kaleidoscope of confusing pain and pleasure. You still weren’t sure what hurt worse: when Danny said you didn’t mean anything to him, or when he stabbed you. It was difficult to say. Unsure of how to even begin explaining what transpired, you shrugged and offered a weak smile,

‘Ugh, the Entity.’

Kate returned your smile with a grimace of her own, understanding the meaning of your words. She walked toward you, pulling your hand in for a quick squeeze, her callused and warm palm caressing yours.

‘Yeah, the fuckin’ Entity.’

She offered you a knowing gaze, having faced traumas of her own in the Fog, and released you.

‘Alright everybody,’ Kate called, in an effort to disperse the crowd of anxious survivors, ‘Show’s over. Feel free to go about your business so the lady can rest.’ Even as she chastised the other members of the group, you could hear the teasing smile in her voice; it was clear that this ragtag team of misfits carried a lot of love and respect for one another. In the darkest and most dire situations, it was the hearts that beat alongside yours that kept you fired up; attempting the impossible in order to preserve the spirits of those around you.

There was muttering among the throng of people as they split off in the direction of the old cabin corral where you all tried to find rest between trials. It wasn’t great: the wooden floorboards always creaked and moaned beneath them, and it was incredibly difficult to stay warm long enough to get comfortable. But humans are creatures of habit, and in the same way you all instinctually moved toward the campfire before a trial, when the gradual need for rest met your eyes, that was where you headed.

Still tossing around the events at the church in your mind, you decided to take a stroll around the survivor’s camp. Time happened really weird here; or rather, it just didn’t happen here. Sleep felt like a superfluous act to you, and you preferred to take these hours of solitude to be alone with your thoughts. You weren’t the only one; Quentin often didn’t sleep, maintaining a residual habit of his old life. Sometimes, he would join you on your twilight constitutionals but tonight you were alone. The killers couldn’t harm you outside of the trials, and the Entity prohibited them from gathering too close to the space. Even a devil can respect the rules of the game; besides, many of the wretched creatures who haunted the trials were there involuntarily, bound in a blood contract without consent just like you. Without the invisible boundary, you weren’t sure many of them would come bother you anyway.

Sometimes, you liked to wander far enough into the uncharted woods that the Entity started fabricating things right before your eyes. Although She was your kidnapper, She was undeniably brilliant; it was amazing to see the things the Entity manifested, trying to construct something familiar to a human in this purgatory of Her invention. It was obvious She loved mortal culture, and knew the interests and hobbies of Her subjects well. Once, She constructed a replica set from _Halloween_ for a trial: it wasn’t perfect, random boarded up doors and ornamental rugs thrown over areas the Entity didn’t understand or know how to complete. All the same, it was incredible and made for a brief moment of excitement in this otherwise eternal wash cycle of misery and pain.

As you trudged along into the mist, you couldn’t believe your senses when you smelled the wonderfully greasy aroma of French fries. There was no need to eat in this realm, another interesting feature of the hellish landscape, but the scent provoked something deeply nostalgic in the pit of your stomach. You felt your feet drawn to it, and soon beyond the trees you saw the blinking lights of a vintage ‘open’ sign, buzzing with electricity as the bulbs powered on and off. Scratchy crooner ballads played on an unseen jukebox.

That was weird.

Hypnotized, you investigated further to find a quaint 1950’s soda fountain straight out of a movie, complete with booths made of cushy vinyl seating. At one booth, two milkshakes were placed on the table; they were sweating condensation, perfect swirls of whip cream piled on top. In between them sat a basket of fries, the source of the smell at last discovered.

Yeah, just a picture perfect pink accented little diner, plopped down in the middle of the woods.

The Entity had really outdone Herself.

Sitting at the counter was a figure dressed in black with their back turned to you. Part of you clenched with fear at the sight, but you knew the Entity would not have led you here unless you were supposed to be here.

Pushing open the glass door of the diner and setting off the tinkling sound of bells, you casually addressed the other person inside,

‘Hey.’

They quickly turned around to face you, and you were met with the howling mask of the Ghostface. When you had approached, you had a feeling that this would have something to do with him, although you weren’t sure in what capacity. He stood up from the counter bar stool, offering a shy wave in return. He indicated for you both to move to the booth and you complied, wanting to see where this was all headed. It was apparent the Entity had a flair for the dramatic, but you had no idea she was so personally invested in the private relationships of her pawns.

‘It’s nice to see you,’ he offered as you took your seats across from each other in the booth. You could only grunt in response, still trying to understand his intentions.

‘It’s been a while…’ he followed with, and you couldn’t help but laugh sarcastically at his gross attempt to quantify the passage of your torturing here.

‘Yeah I guess so,’ you seethed, gripping the end of the table, ‘Last time I saw you, you were using me as a fucking pin cushion.’ He twitched, obviously a bit taken aback by this assertive display of unhappiness. While alive, you had been really afraid of him, knowing that he could hurt or kill you at any moment; but here, he couldn’t lay a hand on you that you didn’t ask for and you were not going to let him get to you.

‘Look, I never said I was going to change-‘he started, but no fuck that-you were mad.

‘No, you fucking monster, I don’t think you could if you tried. You belong here in hell, forced to slay and enact senseless brutality… But you doomed me here with you, and you took my chance at a life away. I can never forgive you for that,’ tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, surprised at your own anger about having your future ripped away from you like this.

Ghostface slammed his hands against the table, making the fries rattle in their paper basket,

‘Well, that’s _fine_ because I wasn’t apologizing. Last time I checked, you didn’t have a fucking life. I was your fucking life; you were practically _begging_ me to kill you. All you had was your little boring lonely existence at your miserable job, and I saw you and made you special. Because I knew you were worth more than that, and I couldn’t let you die like the rest. You should feel lucky I brought you here with me.’

Anger pooled inside you, as you got up from the table and headed toward the exit, before stopping to face him again,

‘Don’t you get it? You already killed me. And now, you’ve sealed me away into _this_ hell hole forever. How can I feel lucky that you _spared_ me from a murder at your hand? Compared to this?! Where you can murder me as many times as you want, and give anyone else who wants a crack at the prize?! I’m already dead. Because whatever this is,’ you said, gesticulating arms wildly at the chaotic world around, ‘is no life.’

You were pulsating with rage, and when Ghostface stood with a hand outstretched trying to grab you, you roughly shoved him back onto the table spilling fries and ice cream violently onto the ground. Something inside you had finally snapped, as you grabbed a loose shard of thick glass leftover from the spilled milkshake, holding it to his neck. You straddled him in place, hand gripping the shard so tightly in your palm that small dribbles of blood were twisting down your arm. He laughed darkly beneath the mask,

‘Oh, wow, what are you going to do with that?’

You didn’t know. This was already miles beyond anything you could have predicted for yourself, but you continued to follow intuition as you brought your other hand up and slowly pulled the mask off his face. He didn’t fight you, pale blue eyes staring back at you expectantly as they revealed themselves to you. His white blonde hair was wild from the static of the mask and hood; fair eyelashes batted above the dark bags under his eyes. His skin was pale, and he had a long, straight nose that led to a pair of plush rosy lips. Up close like this, he looked like an angel, but the sinking feeling in your stomach only grew as you realized-

It was _him_. Jed Olsen, the silent man from work. When you saw him around the office, he wore glasses and had brown wavy hair. He must’ve worn a wig, a disguise to accompany the apparently fake identity he used to _watch_ you, all this time. There was no way to recognize his voice, as he never spoke to you around the office; there was no way for you to have known any of this but you still felt deep rage at how totally and completely you had been _tricked._

‘Surprised?’ he grinned, revealing a broad gap-toothed grin. Your fist landed square into his jaw, causing him to gasp in surprise and anguish. He didn’t fight back though, whether from the Entity prohibiting him or his eagerness to continue whatever game this was.

It did feel good to be mad.

‘Is Jed Olsen your real name?’ you asked as he smiled at you again, blood staining his perfect white smile.

‘Of course not, but you knew that.’ He answered easily, his pupils dilated and body thrumming with excitement. You grabbed a handful of his perfect blonde hair and twisted, eliciting a low moan from the man below you.

‘What’s your real name, I think I deserve to know by now?’ you asked, noticing the way your thighs twitched at his attention.

‘You’re a smart girl,’ He said coolly, ‘Figure it out.’

You could feel the blade in your gut all over again as you addressed him in earnest for the first time ever,

‘Danny.’

He groaned in pleasure, ‘I love the way you say my name.’ You punched him again; he moaned deeply as the blood ran down his nose. Even though you were still shaking with rage, something about seeing Danny covered in blood made your pulse quicken.

‘So, _Danny_ , what was your grand plan for tonight?’ you asked, tracing his collarbone with the shard of glass, now stained red with your blood. He shivered beneath your touch, trying to wiggle his arms in vain. There was no point; he was caught in your trap this time.

‘Oh, well… The Entity noticed I was upset and had been struggling in my trials lately,’ he said casually, ‘and I mentioned how we’d recently got into our first fight the other day. She wanted to know if I wanted help patching things up,’ he grinned again, ‘you know, ‘cause she likes me so much. And so this happened. We were gonna eat ice cream, slow dance, I was even gonna show you my face. But… then we started arguing again,’ he frowned, ‘and then you tried to attack me. Nice moves, by the way.’ He dragged his eyes up and down your body, enjoying the way you shuddered on top of him. He lightly rolled his hips into yours,

‘Are you gonna punish me or what?’

It was right about now that the logical part of your brain decided to power off.

The next few minutes were a collision of lips and teeth, the taste of coppery blood on tongues as clothes were stripped and bodies at last intertwined. It was the first time you had ever seen Danny nude completely, admiring his body as he led you onto the floor of the diner, his cloak acting as a blanket beneath you. He was thin, but had strong muscular legs and a lean chest. You took a quick glance down at his pelvis in spite of yourself, and noticed he was indeed a natural blond. When you made love in the dark, it had been hard to tell.

You were so furious with him; you thought you could have killed him, or eaten him alive. You crawled on top of him, ignoring his erect penis and instead biting him in the crook of the neck, hard. He gasped and you took the opportunity to hook two fingers inside his mouth, forcing him to look at you. At a glance, his face was so innocent and pleasant; it masked a lifetimes worth of heinous acts against humanity. You leaned into him close enough that when you spoke your lips brushed against his,

‘I’m gonna make you wish I killed you instead.’

You bit his lower lip hard and he cried out in response, whether out of pleasure or pain was not important to you. In Danny’s moment of weakness you located the shard of glass, slicing off a strip of fabric to bind his hands together with. When he noticed what you were doing he giggled,

‘Oh my, you know this usually isn’t my thing but I gotta admit you’re making me _real_ nervous,’ the way he purred your name made you boil with arousal and hatred. After completing the crude act you shimmied your hips up his body until your crotch was directly above his face,

‘I’m tired of listening to you talk, Danny.’

He understood the signal and swept his hot tongue flat along your sex. It felt unreal, a pleasurable sensation that made you crush your eyes shut and just let go a little. Danny worked his tongue against your clit, slowly painting strokes along it as you moaned in approval. Your body acted on its own, bucking softly into his tongue.

‘You’re an animal,’ you sighed, riding his face. He hummed in agreement below you, causing you to twitch from the vibrating sensation.

‘You’re evil, and I hope you die’ you said, head tipped back. Danny laughed and took your clit between his lips briefly sucking it in a way that made your head spin. He was _into_ this. He came up momentarily for air and to breathe out,

‘What else?’

‘Fuck, do you want a list?’ you hissed as he ran his tongue over a particularly sensitive area,

‘You’re selfish, and violent. And you don’t know when enough is enough,’ your hips were shifting quicker to match the pace of his tongue,

‘Not to mention you’re a fucking murderer, who obviously doesn’t understand how fucking _feelings_ work-‘you were so close to finishing you could feel it, ‘And if you hadn’t threatened me with a knife that night, you would have never been able to fuck someone like me.’

Danny groaned loudly as his hips jerked behind you, distracting you from your own moment of pleasure. When you looked behind you, you could see his spent dick lamely resting against his tummy, chest stained with his own cum. You gazed at the eyes beneath you as they refused to meet your stare, in embarrassment at the overeager display.

You laughed cruelly, grinding your cunt back into his face, forcing him to assist you in completion. He went back to his ruthless tongue swirling against your clit; his cheeks flush from loss of resolve. Before long you came as well, holding on tight to fists of his hair as you rode his face to the finish. You stood up, ignoring the way your knees wobbled and started to redress. Danny stayed on the floor, his cock livening up again with interest.

‘And nothing for old Danny boy?’ he quizzed, sitting up and watching you dress. After buttoning the final button, you crouched in front of him and began to palm his hard on a bit. He hissed at the contact, his cock twitching into your hand.

Danny reached for your hip, attempting to bring you in closer to him when you gave his length a hard smack; he howled in pain, unable to retaliate against you. You stood, staring at him naked and bound on the floor,

‘No, nothing for Danny.’

Shoving the door of the diner open again, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cool crisp air. As you walked back toward the campfire, you couldn’t help but laugh triumphantly at your small victory over Danny. On the breeze, you could swear you could hear the Entity laughing along with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think of the new PTB ? the Blight is pretty spooky, eh?
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know your thoughts on the story so far! Your comments make my day. What do you think is gonna happen next??


	5. Yes, I'll Admit That I'm a Fool For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Danny have a yee haw old time.

‘Wait, Gwen Stefani? Literally who is that?’ Nancy laughed, delicately soldering two thin wires together while you oiled the gears of the generator.

‘She’s everything,’ you gushed, mournful that Nancy was brought to the Fog a decade too early to enjoy the Greatest Band on Earth. The two of you often chatted quietly as you worked during the trial, both known for an innate ability to hide in plain sight when the killer came to inspect the generator progress. It was a risky idea, but no more risky than loudly clunking away on a generator while a murderer was on the loose. Arguably, there were worse ideas and David had already attempted most of them.

The two of you had almost completed the generator, when the silence of the match so far began to make you feel uneasy. You and Nancy had quick hands, but even during your best cooperative moments rarely did you finish a gen without an interruption or two. By now, someone should have made a sound, indicating the location of the killer.

Scanning the open street of the Dead Dawg Saloon arena, you couldn’t see any signs of movement aside from a lone tumbleweed gathering momentum. It had been a few matches since your encounter at the diner with Danny and the longer the two of you were apart the worse you felt about how he was going to act when he finally saw you again. It was no secret that the Fog had changed you both; pain was a temporary fear, and ironically Danny held less power over you here. You took your opportunity to fight back, knowing very well that he would retaliate the next time you saw him.

But man, seeing him on the floor like that made it worth the pain.

The generator jolted alive, vibrating with power; the rumbling was so loud that it overpowered all periphery noise. It wasn’t until you heard Nancy’s scream that you noticed Ghostface had pulled her off the generator and hauled her toward the nearest hook.

Not sure if he had seen you or not, you hid behind one of the many storefronts along the main street. Nancy wailed as the hook entered her flesh, staring at her attacker intently as he disappeared back into the haze of dust and tumbleweed. You crouched, counting to ten in your mind before taking a deep breath and attempting to approach and unhook Nancy safely. You could feel his eyes burning into you from his hiding place, but nonetheless he allowed you to release Nancy and flee to the other end of the map.

Once the two of you had made it an appropriate distance away, you healed Nancy’s wound to the best of your ability using a flimsy roll of gauze tape. Nancy was silent for a long time aside from the occasional wince when you missed your intended target. When the roll of gauze was depleted she grinned at you thankfully, although something faltered in her expression. As she pulled something out of her pocket, she uncertainly said,

‘He told me to give this to you.’

A chill passed through you as you gripped the note from her outstretched palm. You nodded, grunting thanks quickly and stowing it in your own pocket. Not wanting to be around others when you discovered the notes contents, you babbled,

‘Well, we should probably split up. He’s going to be looking for us together now.’

Nancy nodded slowly, obviously not understanding your sudden change in strategy, but not wanting to press the issue. The two of you broke apart, heading in opposite directions to work on other generators. You pulled yourself through a window lazily before planting next to the generator you planned on repairing next. As you unfolded the note, you inspected the brief message scrawled in his messy penmanship:

We should talk.

Rolling your eyes, you tucked the note into the fabric of your brassiere, enjoying the way the paper scratched at the skin above your heart.

Ugh, gross. Back to the task at hand.

The trial was long and arduous, as Danny took down and mori’d your friends one by one. The only way you knew for certain was by the loud sound of the flash popping with each photo, ripping through the thick humid air as your teammates shrieked; their dying faces an eternal scream now captured on film. It was a brutal display, one unlike any you had experienced at the hands of the other killers. Danny liked to record his more meaningful kills, and it seemed like tonight he was intent on taking quite a few photos.

An alarm boomed throughout the arena, signaling that the exit gates could be powered and that the hatch was open nearby. There was truly no way you could make it to an exit gate and power it completely before Danny found you and inevitably hacked you to pieces and played with your entrails. Part of you wanted to give up the ghost entirely, and just wander around until he found you himself.

But hey, you had become quite the competitive little shit and much like your assailant, you enjoyed playing games.

Yawning loudly, you tipped over a pallet enjoying the way it cracked and reverberated against the shabby wood of the saloon bar. There was no way he could have missed that sound, but just for good measure you tossed yourself through a nearby window and began jogging to the other end of the map. You wanted to make Danny hunt to find you, and hopefully waylay the punishment as long as possible.

Maybe if he liked the game, he would go easy on you? Even though you no longer feared the violence, it didn’t change the fact that it still hurt.

After looping around the arena a few times to hopefully throw him off your scent, you followed the low choral humming sound of the hatch; only to find Danny had already beat you there. He was wearing the ten gallon hat of a fallen cowboy on top of the hood of his costume. You straightened up to meet your maker, finding yourself caught in a standoff with him over the open hatch. He tipped the hat to you,

‘Yee haw.’

You chuckled a bit while tipping your own imaginary hat,

‘And a good yee haw to you, my friend.’

There was a long silence as the two of you stared at each other; the hatch’s begging you to jump to freedom growing louder with every passing second.

‘Care for a drink?’ He asked, motioning toward the direction of the jangly piano music emitting from the saloon farther up the road.

‘If I go, can you promise me the hatch?’ you asked, not really wanting the hack and slash portion of Danny’s rage. He snorted,

‘That depends, are you going to slap me in the dick again?’

Unable to help yourself, you quickly retorted,

‘That depends, do you want me to?’

Another long silence, unable to read his expression due to the Halloween mask covering his visage.

‘So… the drink?’ he reiterated. You shrugged, following him as he turned quickly and began toward the bar.

It was with pleasure that you could report that cigarettes and whiskey still tasted just as good, if not better in the Entity’s realm. Relief radiated through you as you pulled on the hand-rolled cigarette you had swiped from a silver case left on a table. You let out a long sigh, exhaling the ghostly stream of smoke.

The air was thick with humidity, summoning perspiration to your brow; glancing at your companion beside you, you couldn’t help but notice how hot he must have been in his black uniform.

As if hearing your thoughts, he pulled the hood off his head, blond hair damp with sweat. He tossed it behind him without care, shedding his coat in the same manner. He wore a black t shirt and jeans underneath, his bare arms quietly muscular and defined. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he shot back his tumbler of whiskey, a drop of the liquor trailing down his throat. It was a tantalizing sight, one that made you wish you were brave enough to lean over and kiss the whiskey off the nape of his neck. Ironically, you possessed enough courage to risk life and limb to get the upper hand on this asshole in a trial, but frustratingly the concept of boys still made you very nervous.

‘Truth or dare,’ you said, blowing another drag of the cigarette into Danny’s face. His lip twitched in amusement,

‘Dare.’

‘Ugh, you’re boring’ you said, tapping the excess ash away.

‘What?’ he laughed, ‘I thought that ‘truth’ was the boring answer.’

‘For most people,’ you countered, ‘But for depraved psychos like you,’ he raised his eyebrows at this title, ‘Being truthful is the most dangerous and exciting thing you could do.’

His expression soured a bit,

‘Well, I’ve already said dare for this round.’

‘Alright, that’s true. Hmm…’ you pondered thinking of a sufficient dare, not having thought this far ahead when you suggested the game, ‘I dare you to perform a secret talent.’

‘Don’t you want me to strip or to see my dick or something? Isn’t that what dares are for?’ Danny asked, pouring himself another serving of whiskey.

‘My, my, a lot of assumptions from you this evening,’ you said, and he shrugged, ‘Besides, I’ve already seen your dick. And as nice at it is…’ he smiled at this, ‘I’d rather see a talent that is a secret to me. Show me something I don’t know about you yet!’

Danny stretched his neck, tilting his head to either side as he rose from his seat at the bar and strolled to the player piano in the corner of the room. These instruments were probably some of the creepiest vestigial artifacts of mortal music, pianos that played intricate jaunty tunes, absent of a player at the keys. Danny crouched before the instrument, expertly removing the rotating scroll inside the center console of the piano. The pedals stopped pumping and the keys stopped pounding out the raucous tune it was playing.

Danny set the piano scroll aside on a stray bar table, sitting at the bench and placing his hands on the keys. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise,

‘No fucking way,’ you called from your seat at the bar. Danny shook his head with laughter,

‘Yeah fuckin’ way. Prepare to be wooed, bitch.’

His long slender fingers began to pad out the opening notes of Debussy’s _Clair De Lune_. You were ashamed to say you didn’t know terribly much about classical music, but you recognized the tune from its use in the movie, _Giant_ , an old favorite of yours featuring James Dean. Danny’s hands glided over the piano keys, capturing the mounting excitement of the piece. Some of the keys on the piano made no sound, long dead from who knows how much time spent here in the Entity’s realm, without a technician to care for the instrument. It didn’t matter; the chords rang out brightly, wildly echoing through the barren space of the saloon. He was talented; his back straight and relaxed as he guided his fingers through the complicated music. When the piece culminated, you applauded with sincerity and he took a sarcastic bow before you. When he sat back down at the bar next to you, unwilling to answer follow up questions about his musical talent, he returned to his turn of the game.

‘Alright,’ he said, sipping his waiting tumbler of whiskey, ‘truth or dare?’

‘Truth’ you said easily, knowing it was a weak answer. You didn’t want to start so high that you couldn’t finish, so you decided to begin with the easier option.

‘So predictable,’ Danny said, as you rolled your eyes, ‘Okay. Why did you take my hood off?’

‘Which time?’ you snorted. Danny’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration at your flippant behavior,

‘First time. Right before the Fog took us.’

‘It was an accident,’ you said truthfully, ‘Back then, I had no intention of ever taking the mask off. I figured you would kill me if I did.’

He nodded, realizing he had wasted his turn on a simple question.

‘My turn. Truth or dare, Danny?’ you said, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol as you leaned in closer to him.

‘Truth,’ he said softly, eyes flitting down to your lips before returning your gaze again.

‘Why’d you stab me? In the cathedral, with Joey?’ It had been wracking your mind for some time. It had been a surprise to arrive in the Fog, and an even greater surprise to see Danny for the first time as he was mutilating one of your enemies before stabbing you. It was confusing, to say the least.

‘I had to do it before Joey could.’ He said it so simply. ‘If he caught whiff of our relationship before the Fog-‘your heart stilled at how easy he said _relationship_ , ‘he would have done worse to you to get back at me. I had to mark my territory, and I had to make him think I wasn’t afraid to kill you.’

‘Aren’t you sorry you did it? I mean, what’s stabbing these days anyway, right? But that felt personal,’ you asked, only for him to respond with a zipped lip hand motion.

‘It’s not your turn,’ he cooed, obviously enjoying the game, ‘No more questions. Truth or dare?’

‘Dare,’ you said with a blush rising to your cheeks. You knew you couldn’t play an entire game of Truth or Dare and only say Truth but you were still afraid of what Danny’s mind could conceive of. He leaned back against the bar, hands crossed over his stomach,

‘Strip.’

You couldn’t withhold your judgment, ‘Wait, are you serious?’

Danny nodded his head, a boyish grin on his face. He offered a lazy shrug,

‘What can I say? I’m a simple man.’

As you slowly peeled the white linen dress of your body, having moved to stand closer to him, you could see the way his eyes admired your bare figure. He offered a long whistle of appreciation, to which you responded by tossing your dress at him. He caught it easily, before noticing your momentary hesitation,

‘Don’t be shy. All the way.’

His encouraging words made you grow warm with embarrassment and arousal, as you unclasped and removed your bra, slip and panties. You stood completely nude aside from the low-heeled loafers on your feet; practical work shoes from your old life. Danny looked at you like he wanted to eat you whole, and feeling brave you made no attempt to cover your body as you eased even closer to him until you were practically nose-to-nose.

‘Truth or dare?’ you sighed against his mouth. He was stiff, feeling your naked body against his clothed one.

‘Truth,’ he sputtered, his cheeks growing pink.

‘Are you sorry for what you did?’ you asked again, hell bent on the truth.

He was silent for a few moments before saying,

‘No,’ and then ‘and yes.’

You waited for him to say more, and he exhaled a long sigh before responding,

‘I’m not sorry for showing Joey that you aren’t my weakness here, and that seeing you hurt by others doesn’t make me feel,’ his eyes narrowed, mind racing with aggressive thoughts, ‘bad. And that I’m not afraid to kill you myself.’

‘But I’m man enough to admit,’ he continued, ‘he might’ve been right, and you might be my weak spot.’ He sighed again, miserable at his vulnerability before you.

‘I have found you incredibly endearing since the first moment I saw you,’ he said slowly, measuring each word carefully, ‘and I think we both know I missed many of my opportunities to kill you. This is… very new to me,’ his eyes shifted in embarrassment, ‘and I don’t know what to do with these feelings. I am sorry I stabbed you, it didn’t bring me much pleasure if it helps.’

He looked ashamed sitting beneath you, as if his act of mercy made him less of a threat. His apology-as sparse as it was- was surprising but nice to hear. Pressing your body against his you kissed him, smiling into the kiss as you worked his shirt over his head. He kissed you back urgently, acting on his feelings for you in ways words didn’t suffice. As your tongues met you could taste the licorice tang of the whiskey on him, making you feel drunk with arousal. After a particularly deep kiss, he pulled away from you for a moment; his full lips were rosy from friction and your stomach flipped at the sight.

‘Truth or dare?’ he asked, a wicked smile working its way onto his face.

‘Dare,’ you breathed, unbuckling his belt in the process. You weren’t a mind reader but you had enough sense to know what he wanted you to do; this was further confirmed when he put an encouraging hand on your shoulder, forcing you to your knees before him.

The sex was rough, but you didn’t mind. You gagged on his length easily, working him with your hands in the places your mouth couldn’t reach. He had his head tilted back, eyebrows pinched in an expression of desire. When your jaw had begun to hurt you met his lips again in a hungry kiss.

He behaved like a wild animal as he tackled you to the floor , and you thanked whatever lucky stars you had that the two of you crashed onto a carpeted portion of the bar floor. Danny kissed you ravenously, pinning your arms above your head so he could maintain control. You gasped in elation when he entered you, frantically moving himself in and out as he buried his head into your thick hair. The sensation was so great, sending your body quaking with waves of nostalgia from when Danny fucked you into the mattress of your old bed in your old life. You missed the bed, but what you had missed even more was how complete you felt when he was inside you. When you made love then you would watch the reflection on the glass window pane of the two of you moving together on the bed, a dual-headed monstrosity of passion and lust. Now at last the two of you had reunited, no longer playing your assigned roles in this game. Just two lonely bodies, grasping each other close in search of a momentary release from the nightmares.

Afterward he walked you to a hatch, offering you a sturdy arm when your legs gave out from the brutal fucking you had endured. The two of you stared at each other again on either side of the hatch, searching for the right words to say.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Danny admitted, pupils still blown and hair tossed from the sex.

‘I don’t know what to say either,’ you confessed, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears shyly.

Before you could say something stupid, you offered Danny one last tiny smile before tossing your body into the hatch, closing your eyes as you fell into the endless darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so the response to this story from y'all has been overwhelming and i just want to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this piece. I wrote this just out of love for DBD and the fun lore they write for the game. I haven't written any type of fic since I was in middle school maybe, so it means a lot to wake up to all the sweet comments from y'all. I don't have a clear direction of where I'd like this to go and I'm very open to ideas, so please comment and tell me what you like so far and what you'd like to see. I've been thinking about including more with the Legion because I like those freaks, and enjoy reading reader/frank/ghostface love rival stories myself. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little piece, and thanks again for reading.


	6. I'm Looking Over the Wall; And They're Looking At Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank hatches a plan.

When Joey had crashed back into the Legion’s hangout at Ormond, face twisted with anger as he described the events at the cathedral Frank could hardly believe his ears. His expression remained blank as he listened to the other man vent about what he had endured at the hands of that fucking Ghost _freak_.

Frank was crazy, and he understood crazy; but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the elusive Ghostface and why he went after one of Frank’s own. Before he had arrived in this realm nobody fucked with the Legion, especially not their leader and the Entity’s prince, Frank. What he did to Joey that night… that was unforgivable. As a member of the Legion-same as Susie or Julie-Joey was an extension of Frank’s being. When you fucked with one, you fucked with all of them.

‘-and so I said we’re supposed to kill them, I mean what was the issue? He was so _obsessed_ with her it was fucking weird. I didn’t know we could call dibs on survivors… I wouldn’t mind having that old army fuck to myself to torture for the rest of eternity. He annoys the shit outta me,’ Joey had thrown himself hard into the creaky couch, taking a cigarette from its pack in the chest pocket of his battle jacket and lighting it absent-mindedly as he continued to rage.

‘It’s a new girl; I started seeing her around the same time that creep in the mask arrived. Nothing special about her in my opinion,’ he muttered, smoke trailing out his nostrils like a dragon, further articulated by the small gold septum ring in his nose, ‘but he went absolutely ape shit because I killed her instead of hooking her in our last trial together. Next thing I knew I woke up in that church tied to the chair- I think he might have drugged me or something but I don’t know how,’ Joey’s brow furrowed in confusion, ‘Plus, the tooth pulling? That was no coincidence; somehow, he fucking knew that shit gets to me…’ Joey took another drag and shuddered at the memory of Ghostface’s hands in his mouth.

It was valid paranoia; Joey had confessed this secret to Frank many times, when Frank would suddenly choke Joey, slamming him against a wall and diminishing his airflow in tests of loyalty and fortitude, asking,

_‘What scares you most?’_

Joey’s answer was always the same: Teeth being pulled. Frank was waiting for the day when Joey would say _him_ , but for now he appreciated his devotee’s honesty. And Frank understood that there was no way the creep could have known Joey’s aversion to botched dentistry unless he had been watching the Legion’s every move.

And maybe he had been…

It was no secret that Ghostface had usurped Frank’s throne here in the Fog. At first, Frank had quietly seethed over losing the Entity’s attention; it had felt sudden and random. Now, he could see that perhaps there was a conspirator against him, a snake in the grass spying on his crew in the dead of night and using that information against him.

Frank had heard rumors about the Ghostface too: he was an abomination under the hood, a product of carnival freak incest, or that he ate his victims while they were still alive to experience the pain. The most insidious rumor he had heard was that beneath the mask was just an average man, with no discernable history of trauma; one day he had just woken up and something inside him just went _bad._

The Legion had been very excited to meet him.

Disappointingly, although not surprising to Frank, the newest addition to the Entity’s killer roster appeared to be a bit of a loner. He never gathered with the rest when summoned, which had created quite the obstacle for Frank and his squad.

‘You’re right, Joey,’ Frank said suddenly, warmly laying a hand on his shoulder. Joey leaned into the touch, savoring the affirmation from the leader, ‘That is really fucking weird.’

Frank took a moment to connect with the other man, staring into his eyes with focus and intent. He could feel Joey shudder underneath his meaningful look.

‘What do you say we visit our Ghosty friend?’ he asked, ‘This time we can give him a proper introduction. Welcome him to the neighborhood. That sort of thing.’

Frank was going to give that Ghostfreak a taste of his own medicine. His lips curled into a wretched smirk at the idea.

You missed him. And you hated that you missed him.

Your general work ethic in the trials had gone dramatically down, and the percentage of matches you escaped dwindled further and further as your mind drifted back to _himhimhim._

It was getting fucking annoying.

The memories of your last encounter appeared in your mind like snapshots in a photo album. His blue eyes, blonde eyelashes fluttering as his lips drew closer to yours. His hand on your waist, forcefully tugging you against his body; his entire form shaking with desire for you. It was mesmerizing, the only thing bringing you back to reality from your thoughts being the flash of sparks as you flubbed a generator repair. Your teammates couldn’t understand your changed behavior, sighing in frustration when they saw you materialize beside them in matches. Nancy still had not spoken to you since she played messenger to you and Danny. It was embarrassing, but you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, unable to stay focused on objectives.

Why hadn’t he come to visit you? It had felt like ages since you had even seen him in the Entity’s realm. Part of you was concerned that the Entity was torturing him somewhere, keeping him hidden from you; inevitably though, your greatest fear was that he was bored with you. He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it- the two of you would be bound together forever. Perhaps the thrill of having you as his captive guest had finally expired and someone new had caught his attention. There had been obsessions before you; surely there would be obsessions after you. You felt nauseated at the thought, wanting Danny’s full and unwavering attention. This was a confusing feeling: Desperately wishing for Danny’s adoration despite all the ways he had mentally, emotionally and physically wounded you; and hating him in spite of your warm feelings toward him.

No one said the Entity’s realm was the place for healthy relationships.

You felt dizzy and stupid, drunk on his presence alone, provoking you to commit asinine choices just to be closer to him. It made you feel weak, and you weren’t ready to give up the strength the Entity’s realm had forced you to gain.

Another flash of sparks, (singing the tip of your braids) brought you back to the trial you were currently in.

‘Where is your head right now, dude?’ Quentin asked, as he plugged away on the generator beside you.

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ you said flatly, finally managing to conjure some focus for the match. You wished there was something that could grant you energy in the matches; the Entity had enough sense to gift the survivors helpful ephemera like med kits, toolboxes, flashlights, etc. as they progressed through the endless cycle of games. It made you wish the Entity knew about Adderall. Maybe college-aged you, gleefully strung out on pills, coffee and self-assured invincibility would have been able to handle the Entity’s games a little better. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the sharp scraping sound of a locker door being opened, one of your teammates getting pulled out with a yelp. It sounded like Dwight.

‘I’ll head over there,’ Quentin said as he surveyed the dense brush of the abandoned Yamaoka estate, ‘you finish this and then meet me at the gate. I’m not leaving this one without you.’ The two of you exchanged small smiles and he jogged into the night as you continued to work as fast as your hands would allow. When you heard footsteps again so soon, you assumed it was Quentin returning,

‘Did you forget something?’ You called without looking up, eyes on the tangle of wires inside the generator.

‘Can’t say I did. I did find something, though.’ The unfamiliar voice was low and raspy, and you whipped your head up to see the man who spoke; Quentin was thrown lazily over one of the man’s shoulders, thrashing against his captors grip. The killer wore dark jeans and a leather jacket similar to Joey’s, but his mask was different; a manic grinning face with blood splattered carelessly along it. The stranger threw Quentin on a nearby hook, giving you just enough time to complete the gen and make a quick getaway- hopefully leading the killer away from Quentin so someone else could unhook him safely.

‘No, don’t go,’ the voice said sarcastically behind you, giving you a head start as you broke into the fastest sprint you could manage. You bolted toward the farthest exit gate on the map, hoping to put some distance between yourself and Quentin’s hook. You had begun to slow down into a trot once you felt you had made an appropriate amount of distance. When your chaser spoke again his voice was clear, steady and closer than ever. How had he gotten to you so fast?

‘You must be the one everyone’s talking about.’ He said coolly, planting a slash in your back that brought you to ground immediately. He was strong too. You groaned, hating the way you could feel the taffeta of your dress soaking up the blood from the wound; more than ever you longed for the Entity to gift you some pants. Maybe a chastity belt too.

A mud-caked boot wedged itself under your stomach, pushing you onto your back so its’ wearer could look at you. When the wound on your back made contact with the cold dirt, you whimpered from the cruel sensation. You tried to think of something to say; a witty comment or comeback for this weirdo… but your mind remained blank and afraid. The man in the deranged mask stared down at you, his head tilted inquisitively.

‘Well, you’re cute,’ he said, ‘Maybe even cute enough to drive someone to kill.’ He crouched beside you, gently pushing the sweaty strands of hair out of your face and brushing away the dirt and grime. You wanted to cry from how caring the touch of this _murderer_ was; like much of the Entity’s realm, it defied logic.

‘Kind eyes too,’ he continued, gripping your jaw firmly but not painfully in his hand. A siren blared repetitively in the distance, and the man lifted his head to the sound of it,

‘Oh no,’ he said calmly, ‘looks like all your friends are getting away.’ He paused for a moment, before turning back down to you.

‘That’s alright,’ he continued, ‘I wasn’t expecting to meet you for a while; your presence is a pleasant surprise tonight. You should be more than enough.’ There was a smile in his voice that made you pale in fear. While his demeanor was solid and charming even, there was no debating the knife in his hand and the fright it stirred in you.

‘When I heard about what your little _boyfriend_ did to one of my men,’ the man laid emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’.

Ah okay, so this was about Danny. Fuck.

‘I thought to myself, there must be something really special about this girl then. I mean, if it was enough to attempt extreme dental artistry on Joey without consent, right? And then murder him in cold blood? That’s pretty fucked up.’

The killer raised his knife and you closed your eyes, anticipating its intrusion into your sternum. He plunged it beside your head instead, sending crumbles of dirt flying on impact.

‘But you don’t look so special to me-not really, anyway- is there something you do? Is there a wind up switch somewhere I should know about?’ he pondered aloud, pulling on your clothes as if looking for an actual switch.

In the distance, you could hear the swinging sound of the hatch opening and hope began to form inside you. It immediately faded again when the hatch closed just as quickly, and a second pair of footsteps approached. You couldn’t contain your surprise,

‘I didn’t know the hatch worked like that.’

‘Neither did I,’ Joey said as he approached, a menacing laugh of retribution building in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ended this chapter a little early just bc i want some time to decide how i want this next exchange to go haha. i sense a lot of moving parts.  
> this is the first chapter title that's not referencing a 1940's song (excluding dannys chapter 'behind blue eyes' bc ugh i couldnt resist lol). the quote for this chapter is from 'Holidays in the Sun' by the Sex Pistols, to capture how different Frank and Joey are compared to Danny. Let me know if y'all want a track list of all music referenced or used so far, it's usually what I'm listening to when I write. 
> 
> thank you again for all your comments and feedback, i love them all! sorry i dont respond, i honestly worry i would say the wrong thing. i just appreciate you all so much!! please leave your thoughts so far- im interested in writing frank a little different than how i usually see him in fics on here. let me know what you think :)


	7. He Wore Black and I Wore White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't like to play games?

‘The rules are simple. You hide, we seek.’

You stood before the four Legion members (who were all wearing those unsettling masks and holding large blades) in the center of the decrepit Yamaoka Estate. After Frank (who had introduced himself later) and Joey cornered you, the strange twosome expertly bound your hands with zip ties. Two women (also later introduced as Julie and Susie) had emerged from the Fog sometime after, also having managed being summoned to this hellish event. Unsurprisingly, the Entity had changed the rules yet again. Your helplessness in this realm filled you with rage- if this had been any other killer you would already be back at the campfire by now with your friends. In your fury, you hurled a wad of spit at the gang, hitting Frank square in the mask. You couldn’t help yourself from talking back,

‘Yeah, and then what? I smile and lay down while you and your buddies hack me to pieces?’

The entire group laughed at the feeble rebuttal. Frank shrugged his shoulders,

‘Something like that. We’re also gonna get you high as fuck to make it more of a challenge.’

Julie snickered beside him, her voice melodic and scratchy like Frank’s,

‘You’re lucky this time- we were gonna have the Demogorgon chase you, but we couldn’t find him in time.’

‘Hey, isn’t four on one a little unfair?’ you appealed to your captors. This time Susie-the pink-haired head of this four-headed angsty nightmare- spoke up,

‘You tell us. Each time we face you in the trial, there’s four of you and one of us. We figured we should show some of you how it feels.’

Joey piped up beside her, ‘Back home we used to do this to stray cats for fun. You’re the cat, and it’s been a while since we’ve had some fun.’ They all laughed again.

It was all too much- How could they expect you to participate in something so truly unhinged? The trial was over and you had _won_ , so why were they able to continue torturing you like this? Using the last bit of courage you possessed, you hopped to your feet and hauled ass toward the exit gate. It wasn’t too late, surely if you went as fast as you could-

The air whooshed out of your lungs as Frank’s body forced you to the ground with a painful thud. There were stars dancing in your vision when he muttered next to your ear,

‘No sense in leaving before the good part.’

‘Is there any good part?’ you croaked sarcastically. He laughed genuinely at the remark.

As Frank rose from the muddy ground, he started to drag you along with him back to his posse of friends who had begun passing around a small baggy. Susie handed the small bag to Frank and you could decipher a fine layer of white powder collected at the bottom. He took it appreciatively, throwing you to the ground and placing his dirty boot on your back to hold you in place. The wound in your back dully ached from the pain, body having grown tired of hurting. Above you, Frank cracked the baggy open, dipping in a small key he had fished from his jacket’s inner pocket; the ridge within the key filled with the fine white powder. There in an instant, gone in a flash Frank quickly sniffed and erased the powder from existence. He sniffed a few more times to solidify the drug’s presence in his blood stream before sinking the key back into the bag. He kicked you over again so you were facing him as he lowered the key down below your nose.

‘Sit up for me,’ he gently commanded and you felt your body obeying in spite of yourself.

‘Alright, have at it, Princess.’

What’s the worst that could happen?

You inhaled sharply through your nose, catching some but not all of the powder. The three others gave you a few affirmative claps as you dived back in to finish the work.

‘Well done,’ Frank chuckled behind his mask as he helped you to your feet again,

‘If only your Ghosty could see you now.’

A cold and harsh sensation made its way down your spine, and suddenly you could feel your heartbeat between your legs as you pulsed with arousal. You also felt…. A lot better and more awake, and realized the drugs had probably taken effect. You couldn’t help the giggle that started to bubble in your chest because _oh my god you were on drugs_ and isn’t all of this so much _funnier_ when you’re high? The others laughed along, all of you entering this insane manhunt together. You wiped away the tears of laughter that built in your eyes and Frank took the reaction as a sign you had reached your high. He put a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to you with focus,

‘Now listen to me Princess,’ he said trying to gather your attention, ‘I’m gonna count to three, and then you’re gonna run, okay?’ You nodded stupidly, bouncing in anticipation because wow this was so fun?? You could hear Julie darkly comment from behind Frank,

‘Yeah, this is gonna be a good one.’

The whole group laughed in earnest now and you laughed along, wanting to be in on the joke. Without the help of sobriety, you couldn’t tell that you were the joke. Frank pushed you away from him and you weren’t expecting that and _ouch the ground really hurt when you landed on it, unprepared-_

‘One. Two. Three. Go.’

You sped into the brush as fast as your body would allow, ignoring the cruel laughter of your captors. Maybe if you hid really well and traveled lightly, you could make it to the gate and out of there at last? The end of trial collapse-when cracks of molten rock appeared below your feet- had never triggered; the absence of a time limit made you more positive about the outcome of this game.

The only objective was to get out alive before they could get their dirty hands on you. There was the sound of clacking knives and howling screams in the direction of where the gang was, and you figured it was some kind of fucked up Legion thing. The haunting sound caused goose bumps to rise on your arms as you crawled through the tall grass, careful to tread quietly as you could. Your body was thrumming with white hot energy, fighting the urge to ignore everything other than the intoxicating feeling between your legs. 

About five minutes of silent sneaking toward the gate later, you could see the exit in the distance. You were moments away from standing up and booking it when you began to hear the angry foot fall of a Legion lackey- it looked like it was Susie, judging by the harsh pink hue of the hair. She was wildly thrashing around with her dingy blade until she tired herself out, hands on knees and panting with sweat. She scanned the wilderness for any sign of you. Well, that exit was officially out of the picture. You headed toward the opposite gate and found Joey over there, guarding it absent-mindedly as he bit his nails nervously. Sneaking past them was also out of the picture. You were going to have to rush one of the doors and hope you made it past them in time. You considered whether it would be easier to surpass Susie or Joey; trusting your gut, you headed back to the door where Susie was stationed. You figured Joey had too much personal interest; he might be a little more bloodthirsty and less likely to let you escape.

You positioned yourself behind a large bunch of grass before the exit gate, waiting for the perfect moment to hoof it. There was another knife clash and Julie’s cry echoed throughout the stadium. Susie’s head turned in the direction of her friends scream, taking a few steps forward as she abandoned her post entirely. You pushed out of your crouch into a sprint as fast as you could, your heartbeat pounding in your ears because freedom was right _there._

Susie leapt back in time to grab you by the ankle, causing you to fall again; you barely felt it, focused only on your ticket out. She used the scuffle to gain a better hold on you, pinning your arms with her legs as you desperately attempted to crawl away. You craned your head to look at her and she was holding her blade above her head triumphantly.

In a second, an arachnid arm spurted from the earth, piercing its length through Susie’s thin pink sweater. You couldn’t see her face, but she gasped loudly behind the brutal mask. The spidery appendage hooked itself around the woman’s form, dragging her back into the molten lake from which it came. You couldn’t believe your eyes, blinking a few times from shock; the Entity continued to think up creative ways to traumatize you. Susie’s demented screams continued for a few more moments from beneath the hellish ocean of flame, before disappearing completely. She obviously wasn’t as used to dying as you were. You couldn't help but laugh; she was weak. You stared at the ground, trying to make the trees stop waving and spiraling in your vision. The sound of soft footsteps echoed and you shifted toward the sound. 

You lifted your head to see a figure behind the burst ground from where the Entity took Susie. Your eyes focused and unfocused on the person, until your vision settled and with relief you could see it was Danny. He had his mask on, and in your coked up delirium you noticed hysterically that it was splattered with blood. 

‘Oh fuck,’ you croaked. ‘Your face, Danny.’

‘I could say the same about you, dear,’ he said, a hint of compassion in his voice. Just a hint. Don’t make it into a big thing, okay? Either way, he had a point. After all the times you had been slamdunked into the ground tonight, your face probably did look fucked up.

‘How did you do that?’ you asked, brows knit in confusion. The spider arm, his appearance; they had to be connected, right? Danny pointed up toward the sky and hinted,

‘I have friends in high places.’ You laughed in spite of yourself, enjoying the sick bizarreness of this all now that you were safe. Your sadistic boyfriend was best friends with the spider demon in charge, right. 

‘Alright, let’s get out of here.’ Danny scooped you up in a single move, carrying you in his arms away from the exit gate.

He carried you in silence, head facing directly ahead. After a few minutes of this, he finally spoke,

‘I was looking for you for a long time.’

You couldn’t speak from how deliriously tired you suddenly felt, a Molotov cocktail of cocaine come down and brutal violence. Interpreting your silence Danny continued,

‘Were you hiding from me?’ Despite his even tone, you could hear the slight disappointment in his voice. You shook your head no with what strength you could muster, because no _no_ a million times no.

After stepping into the large pagoda in the center of the estate, Danny guided you through a maze of rooms before laying you down on a soft futon mattress somewhere. He stepped away for a few minutes and you whimpered in his absence; you had been through so much, and any distance between you and safety in his arms was dangerous. When he returned, he took a seat next to you and started to carefully wash your face with a wet cloth. His touch was unbearably soft, unable to harm you with his terrible might. The compassionate gesture brought tears to your eyes; it had been so long since you had experienced anything so comforting and banal in this purgatory. Danny quietly hummed and cooed as he wiped away the tears, gently grasping your hand as his other cleaned away the dirt and grime. He lifted his hood and underneath there was something unknowable brewing in his serious blue eyes. He stared for a moment, before asking plainly,

‘Are you mine?’

Even before you nodded, he knew your answer. So much of what transpired between you and Danny was done in silence; the language you used surpassed spoken tongue into something entirely unique. An understanding born between the feelings you two had constructed together.

When he kissed you, it was slow and romantic. There was no urgency, just careful passion. He would lightly peck your lips in between long kisses, sighing into your mouth at the contact. Taking a break to catch air, he pressed his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes in content. He spoke your name, tasting each syllable with interest and concentration,

‘I think… This feels so absurd, but I think I-‘

There was a crash behind you, and Danny jolted to his feet with his hand brandishing a blade quickly. The sound had frightened you, and you remained seated as he investigated the surrounding rooms. You were concerned that perhaps the remaining Legion members had returned for another attempt at revenge, when you heard a young man scream your name nearby.

It was Quentin, he really had waited for you.

You stayed frozen, wallowing in your mounting cowardice and shame. The wet stabbing sounds continued as Quentin’s anguished screams filled your ears. He had been looking for you and hiding all this time, and you couldn’t even bother to go see him dying in the next room.

A few moments later, Danny returned.

‘Just some survivor,’ he said glibly, his pale blond hair now stained with blood and his eyes wild from the kill.

Your stomach sunk from the complicated emotions it inspired. Even when he was a charming prince, Danny was still a killer through and through. He would never change, and he didn’t want to. The thought of Quentin’s fileted corpse in the next room, betrayed by your stupid _libido_ filled you with dread.

Danny sunk back down beside you, taking another deep breath before smiling that heartbreaking smile,

‘I love you,’ he said, covered in the blood of your friends.

And then he kissed you again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh damn no one was expecting that, were they??
> 
> in ghostface's lore, a lot of it ties back into the fact that he is very in tune with the Entity and i like that. I feel like if he was ever like 'pls mom can i have it' she would be unable to resist that face. 
> 
> Please continue to leave your thoughts. I know how I would like this to end, but idk i might drag it out as long as possible i guess we will see haha.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)


	8. Just Me for You, and You for Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Danny spend uninterrupted time together. For real, this time.

Danny sighed in frustration, laying his head in his hands dejectedly.

‘I’m serious. This is the only way out. You have to try again.’

‘Why can’t you cut me loose again?’ you asked pitifully, trying to maneuver out of the zip tie handcuffs you wore. Danny huffed again, running a hand carelessly through his hair as he said,

‘You’ve struggled too much, they’re too tight now. This way is safer; I don’t want to hurt you after just spending a good portion of my time healing you.’

He was right, but it was scary. You had seen your fair share of crime heist movies, and breaking bindings never looked this hard. Danny had helped you in every other aspect after your run-in with the Legion, but this part you would have to do yourself. After reminding yourself of his instructions, you attempted to free yourself again. As a final vote of confidence, Danny offered,

‘If you can’t do it, I can always just kill you and pick you up in the next trial. I’m fine either way.’

That was enough motivation from him.

You raised your bound hands high above your head and took a deep breath; in one swift motion, you threw your hands back down, trying to pull them away from each other as hard as you could. Finally, bending under the pressure of gravity and your body’s natural weight the zip ties snapped with little resistance. You winced, unable to ignore the sharp pang of pain that the breakage had caused in your wrists. It was worth it; you were free.

‘Atta girl,’ Danny said warmly, and your body tingled from his approval despite the throbbing ache in your wrists. Rubbing your wrists with caution, you asked again incredulously,

‘Are you sure this was the easiest way?’

Danny mused quietly, a small smile on his face,

‘Actually, I’m not entirely sure. I guess I could have cut you loose; but boy, what a show that was. I wish I had filmed it.’

Suddenly he began pilfering through the layers of his cloak, searching for something. Moments later, he excavated a small digital camera from within. He held it in front of his face, capturing you in the frame of the photo. Snapping your photo, he said comically,

‘Whaddya say, baby? I could make you a big star.’

You laughed in spite of yourself; the past few hours of your memory had been total nightmare fuel, and this opportunity to enjoy some levity may not have presented itself again. You rejoined him on the futon mattress, feeling much better now that you were clean, healed and free of the zip ties. You rested your chin on his shoulder comfortably, enjoying the way it tensed and then relaxed at your touch.

‘So, how do I look?’ you asked, peering down at the playback screen of the camera. He stared at the image intensely, a ghost of a smirk on his lips,

‘Perfect. That’s the image I’ll keep of you.’

In the photo, your expression was calm and even, despite the wild nature of your mussed hair and ripped clothing. Your eyes were blown from adrenaline still, lips slightly parted and flush. There was something incredibly intense and simultaneously soft about the image, and it shook you to see at last how much you had changed since you first arrived here. You motioned toward his camera,

‘May I?’

Danny seemed apprehensive about letting you touch his equipment but he handed it to you nonetheless. You accepted the camera with as much care as possible, quickly refreshing yourself on the operations. You fastened the wrist loop on and raised the camera so that it captured you and Danny together in frame. He pushed your hand back down, hastily taking back the camera,

‘I don’t like photos of myself. Not like this.’ He looked at you seriously, his pale blue eyes steely in anticipation of your response. You simply nodded in understanding, meeting his gaze and brushing some of the blonde strands of hair out of his face. As a concession prize you offered,

‘You could take more photos of me if you like.’

A wicked grin formed on his face,

‘Only if you start stripping now.’

The next few hours were just this, chatting quietly with Danny as he took your photo in various poses and locations. He was always so quiet, but it turned out that once he was behind the viewfinder of the camera he wouldn’t shut the fuck up. It was an incredibly endearing piece of information about him, something so human that it made your heart ache for him. You tried to distance yourself from those thoughts, not wanting to get hung up on the ‘what ifs’. The Entity’s realm only worked for you if you remembered that it’s all you had. There was no point thinking about the time before, and what things might be like now; there was no going back. Danny was never going to have a normal life, and neither were you.

In your wildest fantasies, the two of you lived in a condo or something. Somewhere cold and creative like Boston or Chicago. Danny would have his own studio as a portrait artist, taking photos for up and coming actors or bands for news publications or press junkets. You would hold down a part time job at the library, using that Women’s History degree at last to work on citywide conservation efforts to preserve historical newspapers and articles. The two of you would have an adopted pet together, something easy and gentle like a cat-

_‘You’re the cat, and it’s been a while since we’ve had some fun’_

It was pretty clear that neither of you could handle the existential stress of children, wailing screams from tiny faces that look like yours. You would experience the world together as a twosome, with lots of travelling and trying new things. In the evenings as the crockpot would finish cooking dinner, the two of you would read in the small nook beside the open kitchen. Both of you had a bad habit of eating dinner with a book, never dining at the table because you were too caught up in your stories-

_‘Hey, stay with me,’ Ghostface snarled, pressing down on your throbbing clit with his thumb as he continued to work inside you. You stared down, overwhelmed with pleasure and hyperventilating as he completed the last letter of the single noun inscribed in your skin:_

_Danny._

Nope, and there would be none of that. Sure, the sex with Danny would always be wild; even in a fantasy neuro atypical-sensitive world where he could get the behavioral help he needed, he was still an incredibly vicious fuck. But there would be no more violence; you had endured enough violence for several lifetimes. The most gore either of you would see would be at the movie theater, where the two of you would go on dates every weekend-

‘I liked that you said Pamela,’ Danny’s camera flashing in your eyes brought you back to the present. You were so far away in your thoughts, you had lost track of Danny’s words. It was probably the first time you had ever done anything aside from hang on to his every word,

‘What?’ you said stupidly. He lowered the camera to glare at you a bit, and then continued to photograph you as you laid on the mattress, topless. Danny would always be a pervert too.

‘The first time we spoke, for real. I liked that you said Pamela. It made me want to meet you,’ he spoke matter-of-factly.

‘I was planning on taking you that night; killing you, I mean. That was going to be my final article before I left town and headed somewhere new. I was completely set; I had even already written the piece about your murder. I wrote your obituary too, since there was no one who would’ve known you enough in town to do it.’

That was chilling to hear.

‘How did I die?’ you asked conversationally, masking your inner horror at the thought; Danny growled a bit at the memory,

‘Oh, it was good,’ he said, ‘Bloody and tragic: everything you would ever want for a young woman’s murder. You would have become a news sensation, the face of the decade; the most famous Ghostface victim to ever live, and then die.’

‘But then I met you,’ he sighed, losing the aggressive twinge in his tone, ‘and you made me want to know you. I couldn’t do it.’

You sat up at his proclamation, ‘Wait, really? Why not? I mean, not that I wanted you to kill me. I just… I was sure I was gone. If not then, then eventually.’

‘I thought so too!’ he said, raising his arms in frustration and then sitting down again beside you. You fished for your dropped brassiere so that you could redress while he spoke but Danny blocked your hand from the garment as he continued, ‘Every time I came to visit you after that, I told myself that night was the night. But then you kept doing things that I _liked_ ,’ his voice sounded positively miserable at this, ‘and selfishly I spared you again. I had no plan, and obviously no self-control.’ He sighed once more, looking up at the inky black sky through a broken chunk of ceiling where there was nothing to obstruct the view,

‘I guess the Entity decided I had too many chances.’

He seemed sad about it. Trying to be supportive in any way you could, you replied,

‘Well, you’ve killed me here. Shouldn’t that count for something?’ It sounded almost as bad out loud as it did in your head, but he appreciated the effort and nodded,

‘I guess, but those kills didn’t really feel like mine. There was nothing personal about it, not like how I get your little friends.’ He prickled at the thought of the other survivors, and wanting to move the conversation any way you could words tumbled from your mouth,

‘You can try again now.’

Both of you froze. He turned to you and looked at you confused for a moment.

‘Are you sure you want to?’ He blushed, backpedaling, ‘I mean because I _totally_ want to, I’m just worried you’re not ready.’ You laughed,

‘Wait, me? Not ready? It sounds like,’ the realization dawned on you as you spoke the words, ‘you’re the one that’s not ready-‘Danny interrupted you wildly before you completed the sentence,

‘I do this by trade. I’m always ready.’ Then nervously he shuddered, ‘Okay, so should I give you a head start, or?’

You nodded apprehensively, deciding maybe that was a good idea. Not being fooled by his paper-thin façade _(wasn’t he supposed to be good at acting?)_ you could tell he was obviously still very anxious around the concept of killing you. Maybe if you gave him some time alone, he could work up the nerve.

This was so weird.

Not too long ago you were running for your life trying to avoid being murdered here by a masked killer; now you were chasing toward the opportunity to die at Danny’s hand. Well, it was Danny’s hand, at least. Sarcastically _(but was it sarcastic?)_ you thought to yourself, _the things we do for love, huh?_

‘Thirty seconds.’ You wagered, as you clasped your bra around your form and began searching for your dress; this time Danny didn’t stop you, instead frantically searching as well for his hood and other equipment.

‘Ten seconds.’ He shot back just as easily, sliding the hood back over his face.

‘Ugh, you’re terrible. Twenty seconds?’ You countered, and he conceded as he pulled on his boots. You were dressed and headed toward the door when he called out,

‘Wait.’

You turned around and silent as a shadow he closed the distance between you two, pressing you against the doorframe. He was already semi-hard at the idea of hunting you, and you decided to play into your lover’s fantasy as you gentled cupped the growing erection. He groaned and pulled the mask off again, catching you in a violent kiss of arousal. You smiled and withdrew, staring into his dark expression,

‘Don’t start what you can’t finish, Danny.’

He pecked you on the lips once more, and pushed you out the door with a light smack on your ass. You squeaked at the gesture, shooting him a look. Taking a deep breath, you sprinted back out into the cold darkness of Yamaoka.

The next twenty seconds were spent sprinting at top speed, enjoying the way the crisp air thrashed against you, heavy wind blowing your hair and clothing in wild directions. Your lungs were burning, muscles clenching trying to maintain pace and create some solid distance between the two of you. With Danny, it wasn’t a matter of if but _when_ he would find you. The most important task for now was to stay quiet and find a good hiding spot.

You crouched close to the ground, slowly moving around tall grass and worn statues modeled after ancient spiritual figures. It was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the beginning cracks of a storm above you, and the shuddery intake of your own breath.

You could hear footsteps and light breathing in the distance and so you hugged the wall in anticipation of Danny trying to find you. Making yourself as small as possible, you looked up and got hit plain in the eye with the first bead of rain. Blinking it away, you scanned the area trying to spot him. Nothing, of course: If Danny could see you now, he would make sure you couldn’t see him.

A particularly loud crack of thunder sounded and you used the opportunity to sprint to another area of the estate, preferably with less foliage to rustle and make sound against. You spotted an iron courtyard with a completed generator in the center of it. The trials felt like so long ago now as you huddled beside the buzzing generator, hoping to catch your breath and disguise the ragged noise. The rain had grown more solid now, coming down in thick droplets that splashed hard against your head. You looked up again briefly to catch another beam of lightning and a rogue droplet made its way into your eye again.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ You whispered, wiping away the excess moisture and blinking rapidly. You stood and shrieked at the alarming sight of Danny right in front of you; unsure of how or when he caught up with you, you took off in the opposite direction. You could hear his even breathing behind you as you sprinted ahead of him. You expertly vaulted through a small window, smiling to yourself as you heard the sound of Danny’s knife make contact with stone and not flesh. You took this time to put a little more distance between the two of you, stepping back into the calf-aching breakneck speed you were racing at before. He sighed in annoyance behind you and attempted to catch up.

Another bolt of lightning shot through the sky and shook your nerves; your feet slipped out from under you on the slick ground and you landed with a _thud_ on your ass. You could feel the dark grass soaking and muddying your clothes, and quickly tried to hop to your feet and continue. You crashed again, this time with Danny’s form on top of you. He ripped off his hood, grinning at you and breathing hard as the rain pounded down on him too,

‘Gotcha,’ he muttered as he flipped you over and straddled you, pulling you into a needy kiss. You began pulling the layers of fabric off of him as they stuck to his skin with wetness. Throwing his clothes into a sopping pile in the corner, he worked on your own nudity. He carefully unbuttoned each button along your dress, sitting you up to shoulder you out of the garment and pull it off of you. You stripped off your own underwear, anxious to feel skin on skin. He stood briefly to shake off his jeans and you admired his body as he slid back down to attack your mouth.

The rain was pouring down, but it mattered not as Danny helped you position onto all fours and then buried his head into your crotch from behind. Head thrown back, you coughed out a moan in surprise. He was frenzied in his tongue lashing, licking your entrance reverently as he gripped your ass cheeks. It was primal and depraved, and when he stopped you whined in disapproval. He straightened up behind you and you could feel the stiffness of his erection pressing against you. He dragged it down to your clit and back up again playfully as he muttered,

‘Can I?’

In front of him you nodded ferociously in your lust, just wanting him _now_. He centered himself and allowed himself inside your wetness. He moaned deeply, holding his hips in place where they met against your backside. You had bowed your head at the sensation; he felt so deep inside you, piercing a deeper part of yourself in ways you had never felt.

He began to thrust slowly, each hard slap shaking you with pleasure. The rain continued to press on despite this intimate moment, plastering your hair against your face as you constantly readjusted your palms in the muddy ground. Behind you, Danny was digging his toes into the mud as he ground himself into you harshly; every now and then stopping to slap your ass with a spread palm and admire the red stain it left behind. After one particularly good slap, you tossed your head and cried out and he snapped his hips against you again. You could feel yourself clench around him and Danny pulled you up so that your faces were side by side, holding your arms to steady you as he mercilessly picking up his pace. This new angle accessed caused him to reach a different part of you that made your eyes roll back from the sensation; he fucked you hard like this for a few minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore and your walls began to contract around his cock. He felt the change and grunted encouragingly as he continued to pound inside.

Remembering why you were here in the first place, you shook one of your arms loose, leading his hand to apply pressure around your neck. Danny shuddered beneath you, slowing pace.

‘Like this?’ He gasped against your ear as you rolled your hips onto him. You only nodded and squeezed his hand around your neck tighter. He kissed the crook of your neck softly as he began to amplify the pressure. You choked out moans as you bounced against him, feeling your consciousness leave your body every now and then between waves of eroticism. You wanted to help him finish before he was finished with you, and you attempted to keep your resolve as long as possible.

Thunder roared and lightning slashed along the sky when finally Danny emptied himself inside you, each thrust harder than the last. He matched the pressure on your neck to the thrusts, and you could feel the lights blinking out each time. You continued to cry out in approval as your vision began to fade away.

In the corner of your eye, Danny looked at you a little uncertainly as he completed the work; it looked like he had left something unsaid. Unable to stay present enough for that difficult conversation, you rode the waves of orgasm and suffocation until you woke up again at the campfire where thankfully it had not been raining. You admired the fresh new outfit the Entity had gifted you; maybe it was a prize for your sacrifice, you thought grimly. In the distance, you could hear David calling for you to join him in collecting herbs for the next trial. You smiled, and caught up with him. The Entity’s realm wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was what you had. More and more, it felt like home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so first of all, i'd like to say that the way I described freeing oneself from zip ties is the best way to do it if you find yourself held captive with them! Or if you're using them in the bedroom (not here to yuck on anyone's yum haha). Do not struggle in zip ties or attempt to break your hand to get out because often it will make the binding tighter and not looser! The best thing to do is fling your arms down and away from each other as hard as you can until you break them. It may take more than one try, but this is the best way to do it if you have no other way to free yourself.
> 
> All that seriousness aside, thanks for tuning in again. Let me know what you think in the comments, I love to see your ideas and I'm always curious to see how others will receive my writing.


	9. In Violent Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin goes scavenging.

Quentin knew what he saw.

In his lifetime of sleepless nights, he had learned the difference between real and fake.

And what that monster had done to her had been really fucking real.

Quentin had been combing the deserted hallways of Midwich in search of useful supplies for future challenges when his thoughts had drifted back to the events he witnessed at the Yamaoka Estate. Due to his habitual sleepwalking, the clan of survivors had unceremoniously dubbed him inventory keeper; it was a position that involved many dark hours spent combing through trash while the rest of them slept. He had never agreed to the role, but undertook it graciously all the same.

Helping people was kind of his thing.

When Nancy had told him about the note Ghostface asked her to pass along, it made his blood boil with ire. They were all already in hell; how could that disgusting animal make things even more grim by using his power to harass and take survivors without consent? It made him sick thinking about the way he washed her like some kind of doll. And then when he had _kissed_ her-

Quentin didn’t want to think about it.

Rounding a corner, he broke into a jog to rustle the horrid thought from memory. He began performing one of the many breathing exercises he had discovered to center himself and control his perception of things. Freddy had taught him a lot of things during their haunting time together; the most important lesson was that it was truly mind over matter to survive. In the face of peril, as long as he could collect himself and assess the situation Quentin could find his way out of anything; his resourcefulness had been his greatest attribute to the team here in the Fog.

‘Score,’ he whispered as he kneeled before a bookcase, spying the red and white design of a rusted metal medkit tucked alongside thick dictionaries. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but they had been running low after the past few rounds with the Legion (who had been particularly vicious as of late) and beggars could not be choosers. He cracked the lid of the tin box, spying two roles of gauze and a mysterious thin needle that filled him with excitement. Quentin couldn’t wait to have Claudette assess the syringe fluid for its potential value; he was envious of her general intelligence and knowledge of things and hoped that one of these days she would pass along a lesson or two.

Quentin hopped out of the small library where he pilfered the medkit and slid down the bannister of the nearby staircase to scope out the lower level for more supplies. The haunting visage of the Ghostface invaded his mind again: it had been shocking how human the ghost looked under the hood; by comparison, Freddy was a bad guy and looked like a bad guy with his torn and scarred flesh. Ghostface was a bad guy, but when he tackled Quentin and stabbed him to death (he winced at the memory) he looked very normal, if not undeniably handsome. It was like getting hacked to death by a Danish prince. Other killers like the Trapper or the Wraith wore their sins on their sleeve: the iron rods woven into the Trapper’s back, or the eventual degradation of the Wraith’s once handsome face were obvious signs of the Entity’s torture. The message it sent was clear to him: not everyone in the Fog killed willingly. Around the campfire, Quentin and others often discussed what they believed was under the Spirit Halloween mask; now that he had seen the face underneath he realized their gory theories could never match up to the ominous reality. There had been no marks of distress on him, not a single scar or mar of imperfection; the Ghostface gladly went and required no prodding to complete his work.

When he had carved out a cavern of guts and mashed flesh in Quentin’s abdomen-ignoring his screams of agony-Ghostface had looked almost… happy, a toothy grin on his face. He shuddered to think of what happened to the new survivor girl after he had been sent back to the campfire. He had waited there for her for a long time, but eventually gave in after two more groups of survivors returned to the fire and began splitting up to work on gathering supplies for camp.

And now he was here, in some creepy old school filled with throbbing pustules of veiny flesh-reminiscent of the Thing-looking for medical supplies. If he didn’t already have a complicated relationship with rest and sleeping, Quentin might have thought the whole thing was one big dream that he could wake up from at any moment. But alas, this was his life and he had gears to find.

Quentin felt a special kinship to the new girl because he knew what it was to be claimed by a psycho killer. Everyone would shoot him apologetic looks when they would spawn together in a trial to the sound of a low bellowing laugh and the tell-tale feathers of Freddy’s dreamworld. No matter how the match went, no matter what supplies they brought, Freddy always found a way to get Quentin alone by the end of the match.

Quentin never discussed what happened when he was alone with Freddy with anyone. Eventually the other survivors had learned to stop asking.

He strolled around the tall hedges in the courtyard, spying for loose gears or even the welcome sight of a rusty key. If he found just one or two more rare pieces of bounty or something useful to bring back to the group, then he could leave in good conscience. He was tired after a rough marathon of matches and desperately wanted to get back to the campfire soon on the off chance that she had returned from Yamaoka.

Something glinted from the dark brush and Quentin crouched to investigate further. Upon closer view he could tell that it was very definitely a key. He reached for it with enthusiasm, only for it to be plucked from the ground by a quicker and daintier hand. Quentin’s head snapped up to face the intruder and saw before him the woman who had been occupying his thoughts for so long. He went flush as he straightened up and struggled to come up with something to say. Thankfully, she spoke first,

‘David said you might need some company out here.’

He nodded; because of course David said something. Last time they had scavenged together, Quentin revealed his thoughts and theories to the other man about the newest survivor; David listened attentively before shrugging and saying,

‘Sounds like you like her.’

Quentin did not like her- There was no room for stupid crushes here in the Fog and he wasn’t going to be foolish enough to waste time on such a futile concept as _liking her_. It was sick to think of something as frivolous as affection here where they constantly fought to live another day; besides, there was no way she would ever feel the same about him. Quentin boiled as he pictured David back at camp; he was probably looking so smug, thinking he did something funny or clever. In this moment, he could understand why the killers always targeted that bastard in the matches, striking him down again the moment he got back up: David was just so cocky. Putting aside his juvenile hatred of David, he lamely said,

‘Uhm, are you okay? I was looking for you back there…’ he trailed off, feeling exposed as she met his eyes.

‘Yeah, totally!’ She said quickly, and then shyly asked, ‘are you okay?’

Quentin nodded; he was okay. _Just confused_ , he thought to himself. The air between them was heavy, neither one knowing how to begin conversation. Instead the silence built around them as they walked together back into the woods.

‘You don’t have to let him win.’ Quentin said to her as they walked along the path that connected Midwich back to the survivor’s camp. She looked at him uncertainly and he continued,

‘Your killer, I mean. You can fight back. I’ve only ever gotten away from Freddy maybe three times here; he always manages to find me. But even so, every time I fight back I feel like I’m winning. I’m not letting him run my afterlife too.’

She had listened to his words, letting her face remain blank and unable to read. After a minute or so of silence she said,

‘You’re right.’

Quentin felt something warm in his chest from her words of affirmation; he felt invincible underneath her kind gaze, making his desire to protect her only grow.

‘I won’t let you down next time,’ he said sternly, ‘I was just surprised; I didn’t mean to make so much noise. Next time, I’ll be more prepared and I will get you out of harm’s way.’ He stopped in the middle of the path, catching the woman’s hand firmly in his own. She spun to face him, a confused expression on her face; when they were close together like this, Quentin could see the smile lines along her cheeks and the small detail provoked strong emotions within him. He could hardly believe himself as his lips crashed against hers without any warning. She pulled away from the kiss, taking a step back and bringing a hand to her mouth as if she couldn’t believe what had happened either. Quentin begged her,

‘Please, let me help you. I just want to protect you.’

There was a type of sadness in her eyes as she stepped back, gently carding a hand through Quentin’s shaggy hair. This time when he kissed her, she returned it; her lips were soft and plush, and Quentin felt like he could’ve lived in that moment forever. Unfortunately, she pulled away from him again, shaking her head,

‘Quentin, I belong to someone.’

‘No, you don’t,’ he stressed, gripping her hands in his own with emphasis, ‘You are your own person and you don’t have to listen to him anymore. He doesn’t own you just because he brought you here.’ He was furious for her, angry at how calm she remained in spite of his outburst.

‘Don’t you care?’ He hurled the accusation at her, as her eyebrows knit in offense at the implication. She looked like she was going to hit him but instead she pushed him against a nearby tree harshly, pressing her mouth against his forcefully. He reciprocated the intense kiss, confused but not perturbed by where the conversation had led. He couldn’t believe what was happening when she began to paw at the crotch of his jeans, playing with his already semi-hard member. He exhaled sharply and closed his eyes from the sensation, now thinking maybe he could’ve lived in _that_ moment forever.

After she deftly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his erect cock, she rushed out of her panties and scrunched the pencil skirt she was wearing just high enough to access her sex. Awestruck by the visual, Quentin could also see she was wearing thigh stockings, held in place by the sturdy snaps of a black industrial garter belt. He wasn’t particularly sure _when_ she was from and why she had this outfit but he couldn’t care less as she climbed onto him and sheathed his cock inside herself. He groaned loudly into her mouth, unable to attend to her needy lips that were against his. He flipped her around so that her back was against the tree now, using it as a brace as he began a modest pace into her. She swore rapidly and wrapped her legs around him tight; Quentin felt like he was going to die from how overwhelmingly _good_ this all was. He wasn’t a virgin, but he was still relatively new to this all and he was definitely new to whatever this was.

It didn’t take very long for him to lose his seed, quivering as he pumped himself inside of her a few more times for good measure. She sighed into the sensation, stroking his hair away from his face and admiring his state of overexerted bliss.

‘Oh my God,’ he whispered into the crook of her neck ‘I don’t think I can move.’ They both laughed heartily, strung out from completion. Quentin jokingly continued,

‘No, I’m serious. I think we just have to stay like this forever now.’

The other survivor gave a dry laugh in response. In this moment of vulnerability, Quentin looked at her seriously,

‘Why did we just do that?’

She looked back at him and admitted simply,

‘I think I just wanted to feel in control of something.’

She gave him one last long kiss, both groaning from sensitivity as Quentin extracted himself and helped her back down on her feet. After redressing and gathering their loot from Midwich, they trudged down the path again. The other survivors would remain none the wiser, and Quentin would take some private time to sort out his feelings over…. Whatever that was. There was a rattling noise farther away in the forest and he froze for a moment to listen closer. His companion paused also, looking fearful and alert. Quentin whipped his head when he saw a flash of white among the dark shadows in the corner of his vision,

‘Did you see that?’ He asked the new survivor.

She hadn’t, and they continued back to camp stopping to check over their shoulders every now and then. They didn’t see or hear anything else suspicious, but Quentin couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my hands are bad and when i put them on the keyboard all they do is make emotional dramatic porn
> 
> tell me what you think of this!! i could hardly believe it as i typed lol!
> 
> omggggg what is danny gonna DO hes been so chill lately, it might be time for him to lose his shit a little 
> 
> Title for this chapter is pulled from 'Shout' by Tears for Fears, a song that was published the same year Nightmare on Elm Street first appeared in theaters, 1984.
> 
> Why do i do this much research for this fic but not my irl writing projects hahahaaaaa


	10. Except to Hear Your Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank brings Danny information. You run into Danny in a trial. Quentin is still wondering if you will call him.

When Danny heard the abrasive knock against his door, he had assumed it was one of the more well-mannered killers: perhaps Amanda who looked on him often to discuss what books they were reading in hell, or Evan who had come to view Danny as a holy conduit of the Mother Entity… Danny thought it was fucking stupid.

As he swung open the door to the small bungalow hidden among the snowdrift of the Ormond resort, he hadn’t expected to find Frank leaning against the frame. Danny could practically hear his smarmy grin from behind the cruddy Legion mask, blood still dripping down the side. Danny said nothing, only staring at Frank as he sauntered into the cabin.

‘Nice digs, Ghosty.’ He said casually, giving himself a tour of the space. Danny continued to stare, hoping that the ominous visage of the spectral mask would do most of the work for him on this one. He knew what people said about him when they thought he wasn’t around; most of the residents here were afraid of him. His silence was his advantage.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ Frank asked, kicking an old chest in the corner of the room where Danny kept his newspaper clippings, reveling in the way a thick puff of smoke plumed out in response. Danny was seething underneath the mask, wanting nothing more than to wrap his hands around that idiot’s throat and crush until there was nothing left.

He fucking hated young people.

Despite being around his thirties when the Entity took him, Danny had very little patience for the Legion and their eternal teenage antics. Although they had been in the Fog long enough now that all of them might be in their thirties as well (who knew how time passed in the Fog in relation to the Earth) they all still clung to their ripped jeans, leather jackets and bad fucking attitudes.

And Frank was the worst of them all.

When Danny had first arrived here, he had noticed the way those freaks had crowded around him like delusional groupies. It made him sick; he knew he had an impressive legacy behind him, but the insolent way they groveled for his attention was just too much. He liked to be admired from afar; in his previous life, he would chronicle his own murderous escapades at the local publication where he worked. As Jed he was able to control his own narrative, and he was there to receive every piece of feedback readers offered about the Ghostface.

The height of his career was when a local group of Roseville mothers began a Society of Moms Against Ghostface; they protested and wrote letters to local government asking them to intervene with his work. Danny would see them every Friday on his way home from work when they would march along the highway in pink t-shirts, carrying posters of his victims. It was inspiring but short-lived; once Danny killed their leader and left bits of her in all the members’ homes, the protesting mostly died out. He smiled at the fond memory.

Frank had situated himself in Danny’s distressed leather reading chair in the small book nook of the cabin; he was flipping through Danny’s most recent dog-eared novel, _Haunted_ by Chuck Palahniuk. It was a sensationalist if slightly on-the-nose pick; gory and violent, both in the metaphorical and literal sense. He sighed, not really wanting Frank in his home and not really wanting to spend time with him in any fashion.

Danny was still confused about why he didn’t feel as good as he thought he would about killing her. He enjoyed it: some things were unchangeable and the sight of her blood made Danny pleasantly warm without fail. He often fantasized about killing her and how meticulously he would take her life away. And the sick perversion of killing her while he was inside of her would have normally thrilled him; but when he had finally asphyxiated her at the Yamaoka Estate, it didn’t.

‘Well, don’t rush to speak I guess,’ Frank said casually, ‘Eh, I’m not here to listen to you anyway; in fact, I have pressing information for you.’

This was an interesting proposal, one that made Danny scoff. He was curious to see what kind of information a conniving little shit like Frank might have for him. There was also the exciting possibility that Frank would be lying to him; Danny loved to catch victims in foolhardy mistakes and then punish them accordingly. Frank’s would be a deeply rewarding kill to him.

‘Right, right,’ Frank conceded to his silence, ‘ _nothing in the Fog is free_. And that’s true,’ he rested the book back down on the side table where he had found it, ‘but maybe we could just say you owe me one? I’d say that’s awfully generous, seeing as you’ve butchered my men twice now and really I oughta be butchering your ass.’

Danny had forgotten about that; at the time he had been using Joey to prove a poiant and maybe he got off a little on being watched. The second time he had just been trying to get back to her; he barely remembered taking out Julie or Susie that night, just rushing and rushing toward her. Looking at Frank he nodded slowly, agreeing to the flimsy deal. He hadn’t decided whether or not to respect the offer, but he would entertain it for now; Danny would play, but he didn’t agree to play fair. Frank offered a hand and Danny didn’t move,

‘Sure, I get it, not a handshake guy,’ Frank said, withdrawing his hand and sitting back down in the leather chair, ‘I’ll get to the point; the other night I was just wandering in the woods, minding my own business and you won’t believe who I saw…’

And then Frank proceeded to tell Danny everything in alarming detail. It turned out Danny wasn’t the only one who liked to watch.

When Danny showed Frank out at the finale of his briefing, the reckless youth lingered in the doorframe. Danny’s own mind was reeling from the information he had received that he hardly noticed the other man’s strange behavior. He froze when he felt Frank’s hand on his shoulder, tensing to swipe at him with his knife when Frank said forebodingly,

‘Anything for you, Ghosty. I’ve got you.’

Just as quickly he strode off into the snow without looking back; eventually the dense blizzard air enveloped his ink black form. Danny blinked once and then again in the open doorframe, before closing the door with finality. His mind was elsewhere.

It had been a long time since the mist had stolen you for a trial. You didn’t know what you had done to inspire such a vacation from the horror but you knew better than to bite the hand that fed you. While the others came and went, eyes growing darker from the things they had seen and experienced, you had taken to domestic duties by the gentle light of campfire. You searched for supplies, foraging as much as the Entity allowed for the trials in an attempt to support your peers. Once-surprising you and everyone around- you even took a nap. Perhaps the Entity had sufficiently feasted on your emotions and energy for now outside of the trials; there were few souls who weren’t privy to your emotional turmoil by now. Based on your personal drama in the Fog, the Entity may not have needed to eat again for years. You sighed desperately as you continued to collect herbs from a small garden you had planted near a bog that led to the Hag’s homestead. She had spotted you a few times before but generally the rules stayed the same: You didn’t bother her, she didn’t bother you. You never went any closer than the small waterbed where you were growing, and knew better than to touch her shit.

Among the sludge and pond scum something shiny glinted, out of place. You inspected further, pulling out a thin piece of plastic the size of a credit card. After wiping the debris off, you could make out that it was clearly a driver’s license; Danny’s grainy photo looked straight back at you with an almost bored expression on his face. Surprisingly, it was a Utah license; you knew that Danny couldn’t have been from Florida where your paths connected but you also couldn’t imagine him calling anywhere ‘home’. The strange man was a drifter and it was difficult to picture him spending an entire childhood in one location. You shivered involuntarily as you spied all this private information about your lover on this tiny piece of plastic:

Daniel G Johnson

DOB 10/2/1970

HEIGHT 6’1”

WEIGHT 175

EYE COLOR Blue

RESTRICTIONS Glasses

So he did need the glasses that you saw him wear as Jed at the office. Smiling to yourself you thought of him in those tortoiseshell frames, wondering if the Entity had corrected his vision or gifted him eternal contacts. Next time you were close enough you would have to look-

You blinked and when you opened your eyes again the air was eerily still aside from a crow flapping its wings beside you as it rested on a generator, in the center of a cornfield. You heart sank, realizing you had been called back to the trials at last. Accepting your fate, you trotted toward the gen to begin the necessary repair work when an arachnid claw sprang from the ground and denied you access to the machine. On the opposite side of the large cornfield you could hear Kate’s shriek as she was thrown onto a hook.

You sighed; the rules had changed again.

There was no point staying for the Entity to release the generator; time was precious here and you had no intention of wasting it. You began to head toward the direction of Kate’s echoes of pain, ignoring the chill that ran down your spine every two or three steps. The creepy sensation only grew as you gradually crept toward the hook.

To your surprise, you could see Bill across from you waiting behind a large bunch of cornstalk. Behind the window of the shack in the center of the field, Quentin (your heart sank at the sight of him, unwilling to think about-) was crouched also waiting to unhook Kate.

As Kate continued to moan limply on the hook, the hooded killer stayed just steps away from her staring intensely. Her face was bathed in the red light of the killer’s presence, expression curled in terror and pain. As if tempting the killer, Bill began to search for an item in a nearby chest; he loudly sloshed the contents around with disbelief as their assailant didn’t even so much as turn around to see what the cause of the sound was. The Entity had apparently grown impatient as her claw descended from above and began trying to puncture Kate at last; it was unsettling the way the killer remained motionless, passively witnessing Kate’s sacrifice.

Eventually, you had decided enough was enough and jogged up to the hook, releasing Kate directly in front of the killer. If it was a game they wanted, it was a game they would get. You ignored the urge to scream as you felt the white-hot sensation of a blade swiping at your back, staining the thin fabric of your outfit dark with blood. After setting Kate down, she grunted out a brief thanks before shooting off in another direction. As you sprinted further into the corn, you could hear Bill’s weary pants as he continued after her with a roll of gauze. For now, they were taken care of. You slammed a pallet down to keep the killer’s attention on you for now, and in that brief moment you looked behind you and saw at last that Danny was your killer this trial.

Well, fuck.

‘Took you long enough,’ he seethed as he easily cracked the pallet under his black steel-toed boot. Well, he seemed well.

This continued for a few minutes, the others desperately completing generators and healing Kate as you ran Danny around the map; his knife swiping the air just behind you at the last minute each time. You couldn’t resist the sick satisfaction it gave you to succeed as the mouse to his cat. Hoping to catch him off-guard you quickly swung inside a locker, placing a hand on the inside as you closed it so it didn’t make as much sound. You could hear Danny run around the area for a few more seconds before he stopped and called into the dark,

‘Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, darling. It’s patronizing.’

You had begun to slowly open the locker to make a quick escape when he appeared in front of it, pulling you out roughly himself. He threw you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, and you let out a small wheeze as the air whooshed out of your lungs. It was a stupid gamble to make, but you had been drunk off the adrenaline of the chase. Quickly, you sobered as your body landed on the hook. As you looked around you could tell that three generators had been completed, meaning that there were only two left to finish before you could attempt the exit gate. One more popped off from within the large tin shack a few yards away. Danny was apparently keeping track of their progress as well, as he slunk in the direction of the sound.

Returning the favor, Kate appeared shortly afterward to unhook you from your miserable perch. She had dug her weathered cowboy boots into the dense soil and placed her hands on your side to lift you when Ghostface appeared behind her, pulling her off you and in the direction of another hook. You had thought he had left you, but he had stayed close after all. Kate cried out in expiration as the Entity claimed her off the hook and back into the murky heavens. You dangled helplessly, filled with momentary hope as Bill appeared in the clearing to help you escape. This plan too was thwarted as the killer darted back and pulled him away from you as well, hooking him in the same place Kate had been, her wet blood still dripping down the gleaming metal hook.

The last generator popped by the exit gate, obviously the work of Quentin. Your stomach sank at the thought of your fate being at the mercy of him or Danny. It was still unclear who would win, although you had a pretty good idea. The heavy toll of the exit gate opening blared throughout the arena, and Danny ran off in that direction. There was only silence aside from the occasional grunt of pain for a while as you and Bill anxiously awaited assistance. The Entity had finally lowered from the sky, trying to impale you frantically as you resisted by gripping Her pincers. You could hear Bill being released from the hook before he screamed again as he was struck once more. Quentin quietly appeared beside you as you heard Bill getting hooked, the Entity attempting to claim him instead. He freed you and you felt a lump in your throat at the way his rough palms gripped your sides and released you steadily. He grasped your hand as the two of you sprinted off in the direction of the gate Quentin had mostly powered. When you were only a few meters away from the exit, the two of you pulled over so Quentin could address your wounds. He blushed as he unbuttoned your blouse, and you turned away so that he could see your back wound but also to hide your own embarrassment. You shuddered as he applied pressure to the wound, beginning to cover it with a thin coating of gauze. The goal was just to get you stable enough to get through the gate.

‘I’m gonna have to uhm,’ Quentin mumbled behind you, ‘take off your bra to dress the wound.’ You nodded quickly, still not looking at him as a flush grew over your face. He unhooked the back of the cloth brassiere and it easily fell off your shoulders and to the ground. Quentin returned to the gauze wrapping, being careful to stay away from the areas that made you hiss with pain. After securing the end of the bandage you turned around to thank him, only to see Danny standing behind him. He had been silently watching the two of you the entire time.

‘You two really can’t keep off each other, huh?’ he said as he kicked Quentin in the back and into your arms. Quentin groaned into your sternum from the pain and his closeness to your bare chest in front of Danny only made you pale in discomfort because you were undeniably _fucked_.

‘You actually thought you could keep this from me, didn’t you?’ he asked from behind the ghoulish mask, as you scrambled away from him while holding your bare chest until there was nothing behind you but a dead-end brick wall.

A final toll rang out as Bill let go and died on the hook. You looked at Quentin and he looked at you, green with terror.

‘Wow,’ Danny laughed incredulously, ‘You lovebirds are too much. Communicating without words- it’s almost poetic.’ He grabbed a fistful of Quentin’s hair, crouching beside the two of you menacingly. Your heart pounded as he pulled Quentin by the hair until he was nose-to-nose with you. His eyes looked sad and pleading as they blinked just inches from yours.

‘I mean, she’s beautiful isn’t she?’ Danny asked Quentin, fist still buried in his shaggy locks as he forced the young man to look at you, ‘I don’t blame you. I couldn’t resist either.’ He then pulled Quentin’s head back, slamming it into the brick wall beside you. You could hear a crunching sound as his nose collided with the red stone, and he steeled his nerves offering only a small grunt of pain in response. Danny tossed him away carelessly, and Quentin rolled over clutching his face as crimson blood gushed through his cupped hands. The masked killer turned to you as you cowered pitifully still covering your breasts with only your hands,

‘When I heard about what you two had done behind my back, I couldn’t hardly believe the betrayal I felt. It made me wish I had seen it with my own two eyes.’ He twirled his long blade in his hands, ‘I mean you said you belonged to me,’ he pointed the knife at you with flourish and you whimpered. Danny scoffed under the mask,

‘Now’s not the time, love. Daddy’s had a long night and he wants some answers now.’

He grabbed Quentin again and threw him back into your arms. You caught him quickly, saving his bloody face from a collision into your hard collarbone,

‘Show me.’ Danny ordered from behind the two of you.

‘What?’ You asked slowly, wishing you had said nothing when he grabbed Quentin again and threw his abused face back into the brick wall; this time Quentin let out an uncontrollable cry of pain as he landed back on the ground beside you.

‘Please, _please_ don’t ask stupid fucking questions,’ Danny said with malice in his voice, ‘I want to see it with my own eyes, how you betrayed me. Show me what you two did.’

Your eyes widened and you went cold as you realized what he wanted. From beside you, obviously still listening Quentin was frantically shaking his head no as he held his damaged face. Danny was quick to press a boot on the side of his head as he said,

‘Do it. This can always get worse.’

That was enough motivation for you. When Danny removed his boot from Quentin’s head you sprang for him, caressing his face in your hands as you frantically cleaned it of blood and grime. He smiled weakly at you, with fear in his eyes. Your heart pounded as you froze, the sound of Danny’s boots approaching releasing you enough to kiss Quentin on the mouth forcefully. He let you kiss him but kept his mouth shut for a moment, before relaxing and allowing you back in. The kiss was dark and messy, tasting overwhelmingly of the coppery tang of blood. Danny made an approving sound and you took it as a sign to continue. Your heart pounded as you fumbled with Quentin’s belt, Danny standing with his arms crossed in your peripheral vision.

Quentin trembled with fear and adrenaline as you took his flaccid member in your hand, trying to wake it enough to get through this hellish nightmare. Quentin whined breathily from your touch, bucking his hips into your hand,

‘I’m worried I won’t be able to…’ he didn’t finish his thought as he looked at you,

‘You will, you will, its okay,’ you assured him frantically while palming his burgeoning erection. One of his hands grabbed at a breast, pinching the nipple hard as you continued your work. You moaned weakly and pressed your thighs together from the arousal it brought. Danny said nothing and shifted his weight around as he watched. You gathered Quentin in your arms and helped him sit up with his back resting against the brick wall. After tugging his erection a few more times, you quickly saddled on top of him trying to ignore the pang of pleasure his intrusion jolted through you; You couldn’t and let out a low growl at the feeling. A hand gripped its way into your hair and you reached for it as you began to slowly grind on top. You froze as you felt the leather glove of the hand, and realized it wasn’t Quentin. Danny yanked on your hair as he crouched beside you,

‘You really convinced me that I could trust you for a moment there. I won’t be fooled again.’ There was an undeniable disappointment in his voice that made you nauseated with grief. Quentin sucked in a breath of air as you clenched around him, bringing you back to reality. Danny commanded in your ear,

‘Now ride.’ 

You did as he said, bouncing as hard and fast as you could just wanting this all to be over as soon as possible. Quentin panted heavily beneath you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from the sensation of you repeatedly slamming onto his cock. Danny continued to clench your hair, making sure he could see you when each depraved moan left your mouth. Before too long, the pace and intensity grew to be too much for Quentin and he gasped for air as he released himself inside you without warning. You slowed your gait, ignoring the unfulfilled orgasm you were so close to; it felt wrong in this context. Danny prodded you knowingly,

‘You too.’

Quentin nodded encouragingly underneath you, grabbing your hips with earnest and trying to fulfill you with his fast leaving firmness. He bucked into you as you clenched down until you finally reached the peak, leaning into Danny behind you as you came on Quentin’s spent member. Danny pulled you by the hair off of Quentin and onto the ground nearby; he didn’t even look at you as he said your name and then,

‘Get out.’

You sucked in breath immediately to object to how unfair this was-

‘Just go,’ Danny said, as he stood over Quentin with his blade gleaming. Quentin met your eyes and nodded with another weak smile, silently urging you to leave without him. Fighting everything in your body screaming to try and save Quentin with you, you finished opening the exit gate and ran back into the mist. As you left, you tried your hardest to ignore Quentin’s screams of pain behind you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of chapter is pulled from 'I Get Along Without You Very Well' by Chet Baker. Do yourself a favor and listen to it after reading this. Danny def sees his relationship with reader as dramatic and passionate like that even though it is decidedly Not Exactly Like That haha. 
> 
> At the end of the day, Danny is still a bad man.  
> What do you think is going through his head rn??
> 
> Also what do u think the G is Daniel G Johnson stands for lmaooooo  
> also also WHAT IS FRANK UP TO OMG
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave a comment, I love reading your thoughts!


	11. You Set My World on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it looks like Danny cares but trust me he does not (for real does NOT) care

Danny took another deep drag off the cigarette, staring off into the distance blankly as he sat on Bill’s corpse watching the endgame collapse turn the world to flame all around him. He didn’t even bother to keep the mask partially on, letting the remaining survivors huddled at the gate see his bare face as he watched them passively from the top of the hill where he perched.

When he had left the real world it was 1998 and smoking cigarettes was still cool and relatively en vogue; Danny smoked in spite of himself, saying it was a further piece of costume to protect his identity but really he just enjoyed the taste of tobacco and the deliciously uncomfortable way the smoke filled his lungs. Cigarettes in the Entity’s realm were perfect; Marlboro Reds, short 100s that sat daintily between Danny’s long, slender fingers. The tobacco was never stale, and each pull of smoke was pure and smooth. The after taste of the smoke made his tongue tingle pleasantly, and he held the stick between his teeth as he smiled and waved at the frightened survivors at the door. They stuttered at the action, as if expecting him to lunge at them at the last second. This part never made sense to Danny, the way they tried to help each other even when all hope was lost; As if responding, Bill weakly groaned beneath him from bearing Danny’s seated weight. The survivors rushed toward again, only to withdrawal when Danny refused to move and allow the others to try and pick the old man up off the ground.

They looked frustrated, but Danny didn’t care. Mostly, he wished the little gamer girl was here so he could mess around with her Gameboy Color: He had heard through the grapevine that she had Pokemon Red and it hadn’t been released yet when he had been taken by the Fog.

It made him sick to see the way they bent over backwards for each other just to say that they tried to rescue everyone. It was a hollow gesture: no death here was permanent, and there was no point preventing one of the millions of deaths that happened here at any given moment. If it wasn’t Bill, it would be one of the others. Danny wasn’t leaving this match empty-handed.

Dwight sighed from the exit, shaking his head at David and Yui before shooting Danny a pitiful grimace. Danny only flipped him off with a smile in return, exhaling smoke from his flared nostrils like a demon. Yui and David jogged off into the mist, Dwight looking at Danny at the top of his hill for a few moments more. Danny didn’t know what his fucking problem was, if he wanted to be a dick he was going to be a dick; this was his trial. After shaking his head once more, Dwight ran after his teammates. Bill exhaled one final wheeze before expiring beneath Danny and disappearing into nothingness. The half-smoked cigarette in Danny’s mouth also faded from existence, leaving his mouth half-parted from the absence. He finally stood, shaking away the creakiness of his joints and slinking off in the direction of the hatch in search of something fun to do.

Danny hated to admit it even just to himself, but he was feeling down.

In the Entity’s realm he felt like a king; he did what he wanted, when he wanted and every kill (for the most part) defied expectation and surpassed any type of feat he could have accomplished alone on Earth. He served a demonic mistress that adored him, and he had everything he had thought he wanted. But his head had grown weary from the heavy crown, and he was not feeling like himself. Danny wasn’t the type of guy to seek counsel in others, but if he had he was sure anyone on the outside looking in could have guessed it had something to do with what had happened between his survivor and that disgusting little wretch, Quentin.

Danny thought of the way he easily snapped Quentin’s ribs between his bloody gloves and the imagery sated his rage for a moment. He really didn’t like that guy.

Danny followed the hum of the small trap door and dove in head first, wanting nothing more than to be distracted from his own thoughts. He landed masterfully in a large clearing of trees, the gentle crackle of a fire not far away. After a few moments, he could decipher the soft murmur of people talking, laughing, and crying. After not visiting for some time, it had appeared he had returned to the survivor’s fire. He crouched silently, scooting closer in an attempt to catch what they were saying.

Of course, Dwight was at the center of the fire regaling the others with what horrors they had just faced at the merciless hands of the Ghostface. Nea and Jake humored him with their attention, while Feng listened with her head bowed; her eyes were darting back and forth quickly as she mashed buttons on a small purple handheld device with a clip-on light. A distorted mechanical cry sounded from it, Dwight flinching at the sound and interrupting the story he was telling. They all laughed at his reaction to the juvenile pocket monsters.

‘It was a Halloween costume from a few years ago,’ he heard her say from the opposite end of the fire. She was sitting on a log bench across from (his eye twitched) _Quentin_ as she explained the origin of the new outfit the Entity had gifted her,

‘I used to go to an annual Halloween party at this movie theater where the film society would meet; the theme was scary science fiction, I think? Either way, everyone was dressed up as characters from different horror flicks. I had a big thing for Harrison Ford at the time so of course I went as Rachael from _Bladerunner_ -‘

She paused as Quentin laughed knowingly (finally something they had both been alive to experience), and Danny could feel the corners of his own mouth lifting at her words. He loved the way she unabashedly liked the things she liked.

‘There used to be a wig too, but I guess it didn’t make it,’ she continued with a sigh, ‘Man, it feels really fucking weird to think about now but I used to love Halloween. Now it feels like I’m living the worst parts of it all the time.’

She gazed out into the brush and Danny’s heart lurched as she looked in his direction; it felt like her eyes were burning a hole into him even though there was no way she could see him out here. Quentin was saying something back to her, _probably something stupid and fucking idiotic_ Danny thought to himself bitterly. As the annoying buzz of Quentin’s tenor voice continued Danny observed his love carefully, minding the faraway look in her eyes.

The outfit was cute: she wore a black silk blouse with billowy sleeves and a high collar, neatly tucked into a black pencil skirt. Danny’s heart skipped a beat at the memory of the thigh high stockings underneath the skirt, gripping hot flesh that he desperately wanted to bite. Rachael wore a full suit with little heels in the film, but Danny smiled as he spied her usual dumb loafers on her feet. Her wild and curly hair was tied in a loose knot on the top of her head, a haphazard style only meant to provide a temporary solution. It was a confusing look, another fun quirk of the Entity’s understanding of human life and culture; She was like a giant mutant toddler, dressing up Her dolls without the vaguest notion of fashion knowledge. Danny’s survivor had surely taken the brunt of this treatment, in her sophisticated if geeky uniform; He boyishly wondered what else she had on underneath. His arousal crashed dramatically as he saw her place a hand on top of Quentin’s (it should’ve been him, he should’ve been the one with her the only one) with a burst of laughter, and Danny could feel his heart sinking at the memory of betrayal. 

She had hurt him; and not in the fun way that she had hurt him earlier in the diner. Danny understood and even enjoyed that type of hurt, but this one was overwhelmingly different. It was a bad hurt, one Danny hardly comprehended and certainly had never felt before. He was growing tired of the lovesickness he felt victim to, wishing he could travel back to the times when he could’ve guessed he possessed no heart at all.

‘So, I’ve been thinking about what happened in the trial.’

Quentin had broken the thick silence that had built between the two (well, three) of them. Danny leaned forward in spite of himself to grab a better vantage point of the two, hating the other man with everything he possessed but still hanging on to every one of his words. She nodded hesitantly, eyebrows knit in concern. She looked over her shoulders, peering into the dark forest again in Danny’s direction and his pulse quickened as he tried to remain hidden. As if she had sensed him, she spoke to him with her voice too quiet for Danny to hear. He seethed as he strained his ears to grab snippets of the conversation, reading the couple’s body language desperately searching for a sign of what was going on.

Quentin spoke to her rapidly, gripping her hands tightly in his; his face was pinched with discontent and she looked taken aback and a little sad at his words. He stopped when she interrupted him with furious speech of her own. Her expression had soured and she looked angry at the man before her. She raised her volume just loud enough that Danny could hear her say something about wanting to be alone with something, and he definitely heard her say ‘sad ass motherfucker’ which caught the attention of the other survivors at the fire. Even Ace-who had previously been lying against a tree with his cap tipped over his eyes to catch some rest-had sat up at her outburst. After looking around at the spectators, she swiftly stood up and trudged into the dense woods in Danny’s direction. He shoved himself against the base of the tree he was behind in an effort to be as hidden as possible; even so, he doubted she would have noticed his presence as she let the first of many small sobs free their way from her chest.

When she had put some distance between them he began to crouch behind her to see what she would do next. He knew she was upset and he was upset too but he didn’t want her to do anything stupid by wandering out like this. _Doesn’t she know there are killers in these woods?_ Danny thought bemusedly to himself as he clung to the long shadows of nightfall. As he stalked her into the night he set his pride aside for now; once he could guarantee she was safe, then he would butcher her himself.

The woods were a strange multidimensional space, one of millions created by the Entity to house her victims; there were invisible boundaries everywhere separating all of the realm’s inhabitants that the Entity wished to keep apart. No one could really say how large the realm actually was, nor if it ever ended or led to somewhere else. They all just wandered the mist in various states of confusion, grasping at what bits of pleasure and penance they could scratch up. The Entity kept them safe until She needed them for the trials; but even the Entity slipped up sometimes. Danny had seen the way the Legion had broken the rules of this place in the past, and they were the weakest link in the chain of murderers here. If they could accomplish what they had at the Yamaoka Estate, who knew what an established killer with more than three and a half shared brain cells (the half brain cell was Joey’s, duh) could do.

Danny fought the urge to spring out and cover her mouth, as her sobs turned chaotic; her chest heaved trying to catch a complete breath. The sound was deafening in the dense silence of the forest. She was losing her shit and he didn’t know what to do; he felt a deep pain between his lungs as his heart sank watching her. He felt his lips turn down into a grimace, again disgusted by the recent development of… compassion… he had for her. It made him feel nauseated and dizzy; he didn’t like it.

Farther up the dirt path Danny spotted the Legion freaks cozied up on some large boulders, surrounded in a hazy cloud of marijuana smoke as loud thrash music blared from a small cassette player. _Okay_ , Danny thought to himself, _now I have to intervene_.

Without a sound, he flew from his hiding spot and tackled the young woman into a nearby bush; he clamped one hand over her mouth as he pulled her into him so he would shoulder the fall. He felt her great inhalation before he heard it, glad he had covered her mouth when she began shrieking into his leather-clad palm; He held her steadily as she writhed in his arms, kicking and screaming until she had tired herself out completely.

Danny continued to hold her, softening his grip once he was certain she wasn’t going to try to struggle away again. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and she just whispered dejectedly,

‘Why?’ She strained her neck so she could look back at Danny, who was curled around her and playing the part of big spoon.

‘I’m trying to keep you alive,’ he whispered back from behind the plastic mask. She let out a low chuckle; it was bitter and sarcastic and it made Danny’s stomach hurt ( _How dare she laugh at him-)_

‘Could’ve fooled me.’

Danny’s vision went black for a moment when he felt her headbutt him with the back of her skull; he let go of her in shock, holding his face in his hands as the mask filled with hot blood.

Danny’s blood.

Eyes still half-squinted in pain, he could barely make out her form as it sped off back in the direction of the survivor’s campsite. He quietly swore to himself, angry that she had gotten the last word and that they still hadn’t made up. Relationships were hard.

‘Hello? Is somebody there?’ Susie called innocently from the highest rock, eyes glazed from intoxication. The rest of the punks laughed at her stoned stupidity; she laughed along with them.

‘Fucking teenagers,’ Danny swore again, dusting himself off as he returned to his feet and disappeared into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Used:  
> Chapter 1- 'Guilty' Al Bowlly  
> referenced - 'With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming' Patti Page  
>  \- 'You're My Thrill' Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 2- 'Behind Blue Eyes' The Who  
> Chapter 3- 'Stranger' Spencer Bare  
> Chapter 4- 'You're the Devil in Disguise' Elvis Presley  
> Chapter 5- 'I Walk the Line' Johnny Cash  
> Chapter 6- 'Holidays in the Sun' Sex Pistols  
> Chapter 7- 'Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)' Nancy Sinatra  
> Chapter 8- 'Tea for Two' Doris Day  
> Chapter 9- 'Shout' Tears for Fears  
> Chapter 10- 'I Get Along Without You Very Well' Chet Baker  
> Chapter 11- 'I Love You, Yes I Do' Tab Hunter
> 
> Hello and welcome back to the PRISON OF EMOTIONS things are tough for everyone rn, will anyone be happy?? can the reader have it all? what does she even want?
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment bc I love reading what you think :) 
> 
> hope you all are staying safe and well x


	12. So Good, So Cold, So Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of the Halloween arc, dude.

The Entity was like your favorite aunt who never missed the opportunity to dress up for the holidays. When a new season ambled its way into the Fog (who knew what actual season it was on Earth; at least the Entity measured the time between holidays similarly to a normal calendar year.) each survivor would find themselves with a gift or two from Her, always corresponding to the nearing holiday season.

The first of the orange leaves had begun to fall from their station on the trees, and already there were gifts arranged neatly in a few chests beside the campfire; autumn had arrived. Ace tossed his gaze expectantly at Jane as he raised an outstretched hand; Jane sighed and removed a small bobby pin from the tight bun she had twisted her hair into. Ace palmed it with glee and crouched to begin working on the chest and yes of course, it was locked because nothing here was free. In record time, the chest clicked in agreement and Ace opened it with excitement. He wasn’t particularly interested in the gifts, but nothing gave him the same high as a good cheat; that alone was enough of a gift to him (maybe that was why they always came to the survivors locked). Jane rolled her eyes as she began to collect the brown packages bound with twine-the survivors names scrawled on them shakily-and pass them out to the others around the fire.

You were surprised when she tossed one your way, fumbling it and embarrassingly watching as it landed on the ground pathetically. You still had on the _Bladerunner_ getup and had assumed that it was your Halloween outfit, but the package you held in your hands was heavy enough that it was probably a garment. More dread than excitement built in your chest when the Entity gave you things, feeling more pain than pleasure at her hand (claw? pincer?) these days. The trials had been brutal, and you and Danny had been separated yet again. When you were out of the match you did everything in your power to make yourself scarce around Quentin, who ended up by your side in almost every match. It was awkward, but the two of you tried your best to stay focused on the task at hand, unwilling to make conversation. You kept your head down, plowing away at objectives and trying not to think about how the Entity must be laughing it up at your misfortune.

Things had been hard.

From across the fire, Jeff pulled out a long caftan with blood stains on the arms and sides of it. As he shook out the robe, a crown constructed of twigs and thorns and a small nametag sticker fluttered out with it. He picked the sticker up off the ground and released a loud bark of laughter at what the nametag read,

 _‘Jesus_. That’s a little on the nose, eh?’

Nancy snorted beside him, examining her own gift,

‘I wish people would stop acting like ‘1980’s’ as a general concept is a costume. For me, these are just clothes! And ugly ones,’ she said as she examined the aqua blue body stocking, complete with aerobics sweatbands and leg warmers. Nancy shook her head and grimaced. Quentin chuckled beside her in spite of himself, eyes quickly meeting yours before shifting away again,

‘Yeah, it’s like scary Christmas.’

He unwrapped his own costume, peeking into the brown packaging with curiosity. His face went red as he examined the contents inside, and he crumpled the package shut again.

‘You okay, kid?’ Jeff lumbered over to the young man, offering him a heavy pat of reassurance on the shoulder. Quentin gulped dryly, looking at you again more seriously this time,

‘Yeah, just a surprise. I’m gonna take a walk.’

Quentin rushed off into the dark woods with the Entity’s gift tucked underneath his arm. All the survivors were used to the drama and trauma of this world and didn’t blink at his sudden dismissal; he needed the time alone and all of you were more than empathetic and willing to give him space. Well, except you; you had to imagine your feet rooting themselves into the Earth so as not to chase after him and interfere with his life here anymore. A pang of regret made its way into your chest at the words you had used the last time you two spoke, the things you had said when you were angry and hurt. There was no going back now.

Jeff loftily placed the thorny wreath atop his head, and he was admittedly a sight for sore eyes in the golden flickering light of the campfire,

‘Do you think he’ll be alright out there?’ he asked, his ‘out’ coming out more like ‘oueght’ and showcasing his Canadian upbringing. There were scattered nods around the campfire, knowing that Jeff was mostly asking for kindness’ sake; there really wasn’t any ‘alright’ anymore, but you had all been here long enough now to know how to protect yourselves in the woods at night. Besides, you knew there was nothing any of you could do anyway to make him feel better; that is unless you could travel back in time before you said all those things to him.

‘Wow, this is the first thing I think I’ve ever been gifted here that wasn’t just for sex appeal,’ Kate said as she hugged the navy blue coveralls she had been gifted close to herself, along with a red head scarf and a tube of matching lipstick. She made the iconic flexed arm pose of Rosie the Riveter and the others clapped in excitement for her. Kate was one of many who had come with an assigned villain, and often were victim to their unhinged behavior. The few times Kate spoke of what happened between her and the Clown it made you grateful that you only had Danny as your serial killer stalker. At least you got to keep all your fingers. You were all sincerely glad for the opportunity for Kate to be left alone for a while; the Legion had also taken a liking to keeping her long after trial had ended and using her in their twisted extracurricular activities. Perhaps the solid coveralls would grant her a little more protection in upcoming matches.

Last Halloween had been the first time you had ever met Danny (well, that wasn’t entirely true) and it was boggling how wildly different things were now. Since you had retaliated against him in a fit of anger and defeat, you hadn’t seen him once in the trials. A few times you thought you could’ve spotted him in the trees or on the roof of a house in certain trials, but then a completely different killer would loop around a corner and attempt to hack you to piece. The Entity had obviously decided you two needed some time apart, not ready to play nice.

In spite of the chaos you had wreaked upon your romantic life here, you were ready to apologize and move on. Danny’s absence left a gap larger than any sense of pride and self-preservation could fill. You were angry yes, and felt out of control; however the way you had expressed those feelings might not have been the best. Now Danny was hurt, Quentin was hurt and you were hurt. But you had been tired of crying, and when the tears had stopped falling all you had left was anger.

Peeling apart the brown paper wrapping of your gift, you shook out a faded blue t shirt from within, a pair of high-waisted shorts and tube socks rolling out; a faded pair of red keds tumbling to the ground. Another fleck of paper swirled down with it and you wondered if all the survivors received personal notes like this?

Before you had even touched the scrap you knew who it was from; there was only one person who even bother to care like this. Part of that realization made you sad, another filled you with appreciation that in spite of all the fighting Danny still cared for you.

_I miss you._

Your head felt light and tingly as you read the three words over and over again until each syllable lost its meaning. You tucked the message into your brassiere, cursing the way truly none of your outfits had pockets. The Entity was obviously far more focused on aesthetic versus practicality. You could feel the stares of the others burning into you with questions about your gift. You dodged them hastily, muttering something about wanting to check on Quentin and rushing in the opposite direction he had left in.

‘You’re being weird!’ Feng called from the fire, clutching the fuzzy bunny hoodie she had been gifted. You flipped her off and you could feel her childish grin of approval. This obviously sated the group’s curiosity for now as they let you fade into the mist in the direction of Anna’s stead in the Red Forest. That had been the last place you had thought you had seen Danny and you were feeling adventurous enough to try something stupid. Deciding to really add on a layer of sweetness for your beau you quickly stripped in the center of the woods, shoving the snug garments off your body and hopping into the Halloween outfit you had been gifted. You snorted to yourself as you read the puffy vintage lettering on the t-shirt which featured a cheery graphic of pine trees and a small tent between them: _Camp Crystal Lake_ , it read in the enthusiastic font, _A Summer You’ll Never Forget._ Danny had found another way to make you smile without being anywhere nearby and you hated how deeply this touched you after the fights you had been having. You pushed the deep feelings of guilt and dread aside for a moment as you shimmied the tight denim shorts on, yanking up the knee high tube socks on afterward. The keds comfortably slid onto your feet, somehow possessing the worn-in quality of being yours for years.

Breaking into a moderate gait you continued your passage into the woods, ignoring the way your heart slammed in your chest. When you arrived in the small clearing right before the entrance to the Red Forest there was a hooded figure in the center, their back to you. They picked one of the blooms that grew wild in this field, twirling it in their hand as they examined it closely. You took a deep breath and stepped forward to meet your maker,

‘I’m so sorry,’ you choked out to shadow, ‘I fucked up and I’m sorry.’

The figure whipped around and the Ghostface’s howling mask stared back at you. You took another step forward and he took a step back, as if surprised by your presence. You continued,

‘I understand if you can’t forgive me yet… I couldn’t forgive you for a long time either,’ Ghostface met you only with silence, staying completely still where he was. You would have given anything to see his face and attempt to read his emotions,

‘But I decided I’m not going to fight this anymore. I’m just going to love you; I don’t want to fight anymore. Please come back…?’

You felt pathetic as you felt the tears gathering in your eyes, and the masked man took a few hesitant steps toward you. There was an unfamiliar familiarity in the way he pressed you against himself, more disjointed and awkward than normal. You didn’t ask questions and accepted the moment of warmth while you had it; it felt like a dirty trick when he let go and shoved you, silently watching as you thudded on your back heavily. You scrambled, trying to gather your bearings on the cold damp earth; the masked man continued to tread in your direction, this time with more confidence. Your mind shuffled through options of what possible route to take in this situation,

‘You could punish me. If that made it easier.’

It was a bad idea, but it was obviously going to work as the cloaked figure landed a dirt-caked boot against your cheek. You groaned from the harsh impact but took the hit with humility; so it was going to be one of those types of nights. You grimaced beneath the heavy black shoe,

‘I know I’ve been bad.’

There was nothing but silence as he removed the boot and made quick work of slicing off your soft t-shirt and shorts; it was precise and technical, like being assessed by a field medic. The hands were steady and strong as they pulled the split fabric off of you and flipped you over so you were now resting on your back. Your chest heaved with fear, real fear and uncertainty about what was happening. Wasn’t this what you wanted? Why did everything feel so… wrong? You stared into the hollow black eyes of the mask, trying to read the impossible expression that was behind it. Ghostface grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing you to look away from him. He pinched a nipple once roughly with the other gloved hand and you cried out in pain from the abrasive action. You could hear the jingling of his belt and without any type of warning or preparation he was inside of you and it hurt. You gasped as a reaction to the sudden intrusion and he choked out a moan from behind gritted teeth. He chased his own pleasure inside of you and your body responded as bodies often did and before you knew it you were moaning loudly against him, your newfound wetness allowing him to slam harder and faster into you. You could feel your pelvis bruising as he ripped into you, emptying his climax inside. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes from the deep pain; he withdrew himself from you and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief because it was over and you were done.

He screamed in agony when a knife buried itself in the core of his being, and he flopped unceremoniously beside you. You screamed in true horror as you spied the assailant behind him:

Another tall cloaked figure with a billowing black cloak stood there, masked by the image of a red devil; in a single motion he planted a combat boot in Ghostface’s back and pulled the knife out with flourish. The man underneath wailed in agony, curling into a fetal position as he attempted to escape the devil’s grasp. He was unsuccessful and the devil grabbed his hood and revealed him right in front of you.

Huh, it was weird but it looked a lot like Quentin underneath the cowl. But that couldn’t be right, you contended with yourself. The truth was confirmed as he spit angrily at you, blood beginning to pool in his mouth and stain his teeth,

‘I thought you were like me, but I was wrong,’ Quentin snarled at you, and then nodded at the devil who had assaulted him, ‘You’re more like him than you are like me. You’re sick,’ he spit out, turning his attention back to you, ‘the more I hurt you, the more you liked me. You two deserve each other.’

The red devil planted his blade back into Quentin, and this time it was enough to finalize his termination. After a few moments, his body faded into nothingness leaving only the ghost mask behind.

The red devil crossed over to you, pulling from the layers of his cloak the white dress you had ditched in the woods. He offered it to you and you took it cautiously, never taking your eyes off him as you dressed. Once you had made yourself decent and returned to your feet, the devil removed his own disguise: Of course, Danny was there underneath; his blue eyes crinkling as he smiled sadly at you. His pale blonde hair-normally messy and wild-was combed back into a handsome wave.

‘Happy Halloween,’ Danny said with a sigh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes hello, welcome back to Hell hahaha.  
> I know, things had to get worse before they got better.  
> I promise, they will get better.
> 
> If you're on the west coast, please stay safe and know I am thinking of you!
> 
> who do you want to see in the Halloween arc?? I'm feelin' spooky bitch
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, I love reading your thoughts on the piece and also just about how you are doing.
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 1- 'Guilty' Al Bowlly   
> referenced - 'With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming' Patti Page  
> \- 'You're My Thrill' Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 2- 'Behind Blue Eyes' The Who  
> Chapter 3- 'Stranger' Spencer Bare  
> Chapter 4- 'You're the Devil in Disguise' Elvis Presley  
> Chapter 5- 'I Walk the Line' Johnny Cash  
> Chapter 6- 'Holidays in the Sun' Sex Pistols  
> Chapter 7- 'Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)' Nancy Sinatra  
> Chapter 8- 'Tea for Two' Doris Day  
> Chapter 9- 'Shout' Tears for Fears  
> Chapter 10- 'I Get Along Without You Very Well' Chet Baker  
> Chapter 11- 'I Love You, Yes I Do' Tab Hunter  
> Chapter 12- 'St James Infirmary' Cab Calloway


	13. He Melts My Foolish Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend the night (night lol what's night anymore) at Danny's!

Danny was uncharacteristically sweet with you as he wrapped a cloaked arm around you, the red devil mask tossed over one shoulder and his (beautiful) face on full display. The two of you ambled toward the Red Forest and you felt a deep satisfaction knowing if you hadn’t run into Gho-No, Quentin- you would have made it to Danny on your own. In your time together, he had always been the one to find you; it was with pleasure that you realized for the most part, this time you hunted him.

‘Are you too sore to walk?’ He asked suddenly, noticing the way you limped every three or four steps. You were sore; the way Quentin had assaulted you had been painful and your inner thighs were still throbbing from tensing at the sudden presence of his cock inside you. Frowning, you nodded and Danny gathered you in his arms, careful to add a supportive arm under your legs where the pain was quelled for now. Minutes passed before you confessed,

‘I feel so stupid. I thought it was you. I should have known.’

Danny’s eyes flicked toward yours and you met them remorsefully; how could you have believed it was Danny for so long? You were so sure you knew him and yet you couldn’t identify his behavior from the next guy’s; it felt like you had failed him somehow.

‘I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself, darling,’ Danny smiled down at you, his fine blonde hair combed back and no longer hiding his strong bone structure. You took a deep breath before trying to summarize the contents of the speech you _thought_ you had given to Danny earlier,

‘I came to apologize to you and say that I want-‘

‘I know,’ He cut you off calmly, another smile on his face. You frowned,

‘How much of that did you hear?’

‘All of it.’

You were too tired to be angry but you couldn’t help yourself,

‘Why didn’t you do anything?’

‘I like to know who people are,’ he said cryptically and you knew that it wasn’t worth investigating further; Danny had said all he was interested in saying.

While you had been busy staring at Danny’s face, he had carried you all the way to a small cabin in a back corner of the Red Forest, surrounded by stacks of lumber and concealed from view. Instead of putting you down, he chose to kick the door open.

‘My hero,’ you said and he laughed heartily.

The interior of the cabin was spectacular by the Entity’s standards: bookshelves lined the walls and candlelight filled the space with soft flickering light. There was a small cot in the corner and it was strange to think of Danny shutting his eyes for rest; the constant purple stain under his eyes suggested he didn’t use it often.

After laying you down on the cot, he crossed to the other side of the cabin where there was a small kitchenette and put on a kettle of water. He kept his back to you as he said gently,

‘I knew you loved me too.’

You giggled nervously from the bed, and Danny changed the subject.

‘So Jason really does it for you, huh?’

Now this was something you could talk about.

‘Dude yes,’ you gushed, ‘It’s the perfect balance of camp and gore! A man basically born to kill? It’s simple and gratifying, what’s not to like?’

It was true, the _Friday the 13 th_ franchise held a special place in your heart and you would always stop and watch it if it came on television. Especially the bad ones, the bad ones were the best ones. Danny laughed at your outburst and you responded,

‘What? Am I supposed to have artsy taste like you, maybe?’ you wryly asked and he squinted his eyes at you, ‘Ah yes, who could forget such hit classics like _Suspiria_ and _Santa Sangre_ huh? Not to mention the Criterion Collection darling, _House_.’ He raised his eyebrows at you at your recitation of horror deep cuts, ‘I know my shit.’

‘I can tell,’ he said as he sat in a chair a few feet away from the cot, ‘Although speaking for myself, I prefer a female director at the helm of the film. Women understand fear in ways cisgendered men never would be able to. _The Slumber Party Massacre_ is high camp for sure, but there are moments in between that are undeniably real-or Ida Lupino’s _The Hitch-Hiker_!’ Danny practically clapped his hands together in excitement about the director, ‘Oh, it’s genius. We’ll have to watch it sometime, I think it’d really set you on edge.’

There it was again: That spark of humanity in Danny’s eyes that made him seem like a real person, even if just for a moment. It was enough to make you wonder if Danny and you could have been friends or lovers in another life. Sometimes when you were alone with your thoughts and the Entity, you would dream and wish to go back to the time before the Fog; in this universe instead of continuing your strange visitations from Ghostface, you befriended Jed at work until you reached the real Danny underneath it all. The two of you would fall in love and he would leave behind the murdering. In other fantasies, you revealed Danny the same way you had before; although this time, you swore to leave your life behind and stay with him as an apprentice of his life’s work. After everything you had faced in the Fog, you were sure you could face anything in order to be with the one you loved.

The kettle whistled as it reached its boiling point; Danny carefully grabbed it and poured the hot water over two tea bags in plain white mugs. There was a small tray on the table between you two complete with a sugar bowl and stirring spoons. He rested the mugs on the tray and dragged his chair so that it was closer to the table and you.

This was how the next few hours were spent: sipping on sweet herbal tea and discussing movies and music. At some point Danny had shed his cloak and underneath was a faded Slayer t-shirt, a relic of his past long before he met you. As it turned out he had diverse interests when it came to music; he loved artists of all genres, ready with a song for any occasion.

When sleepiness finally wrapped its arms around you, it was disappointing only because you were having such a nice time with Danny. He was funny, and interesting; he was passionate about the things he liked, even more so about the things he hated. He was mid-sentence discussing why he thought Tarantino (another despicable _Quentin,_ he muttered or so you thought) was a hack job and con artist when he noticed the heaviness of your lids,

‘We can pick this up tomorrow,’ he said gently with a smile, as he collected the mug from your grasp and put it away. You let him gently undress you, loving the soft texture of his sheets against your bare skin. At some point, he lifted the comforter and tucked you in like a child; giving you a final kiss good night before attending to the dirty dishes.

It was hard to tell exactly what happened because for the first time in a very long time, you slept.

You couldn’t tell exactly how long you had rested but when you cracked your eyes open again Danny was slouched in a brown leather chair reading a book. He looked focused, his expression creating a small crease between his brows as they furrowed. To your surprise, it took him a few pages of whatever he was reading before he realized you were awake and staring at him from the bed.

‘Must be a good book,’ you thought aloud. He offered a sheepish grin in response,

‘I’ve actually never read this one before, so it’s exciting.’

He flipped the paperback toward you so you could read its faded cover and you could make out the word _Rebecca_ along the spine in long black typeface. It was a mystery novel written by Daphne Du Maurier, and later had been made into a movie directed by Alfred Hitchcock. You had read the novel in high school with a cool English teacher who showed the class the movie after finishing the book curriculum.

‘It’s good,’ you commented, ‘Sad, but good. Spooky too.’

Now that you were finally awake again to entertain, Danny placed a bookmark inside the weathered pages and set the book aside. He scooted the chair again so he was face-to-face with you and gave you a long kiss,

‘You’re smart. You’re cool and smart, and I think you’re sexy.’

This was heaven to you.

You lifted the covers where you lay underneath and Danny accepted the invitation and slipped inside, coiling his long limbs around your own. He squeezed you close; tightly enough that you struggled to take in full breaths. He crushed his face into your hair, inhaling deeply and humming with satisfaction. You could only laugh in response at his primal and silly behavior, tracing your fingers along the Marcel wave in his hair. The classic style made him look like the handsome young widower in his novel, and suited his elegant yet masculine stature.

‘I wish I could show you where I grew up,’ Danny said suddenly, withdrawing his head from your locks and looking at you with focus. Your eyebrows knit with confusion because first of all _how_ and second of all _where?_ So much of who Danny was and where he came from remained a mystery to you, one you longed to discover; this felt too good to be true.

‘Like your childhood home?’ You asked, and Danny scoffed with ire,

‘Ew, what? No, no reason to go there,’ his expression softened again, ‘but it is worthwhile to see Utah. If you can put up with the canyon critters and religious freaks, it’s not all that bad. Beautiful, even… like walking on Mars.’

‘Well, maybe you should,’ you muttered between kisses along his neck and he sighed pleasantly, ‘you know, show me. I want to know all there is to know about you, Danny.’

He grabbed your chin and guided you into a rough kiss, smashing his plush lips against yours.

‘No one’s ever gonna know all there is to know, but I could let you get close.’

You were treading into dangerous territory and you knew it; Danny flipped you so you were on top of him, straddling his hips and you knew you were in control here,

‘But how would we ever get out of here?’ you asked innocently, playing with the hem of his shirt and lifting it inch by inch to reveal toned chest underneath. Danny rolled his hips into yours in response,

‘Oh, that’s the easy part. I just have to talk to the Entity.’

It made you burn knowing that freedom had been this close to you the whole time and you hadn’t even thought to pursue it. You shoved this embarrassing realization aside to focus on your game with the man beneath you whose cock had begun to twitch with interest. You scooted back enough to lean over and unbuckle his leather belt with your teeth (a trick you had learned with girlfriends in college) and he swore from the aggressive action and buried a hand in your hair.

‘So what would be the hard part?’ You continued, pulling his member out of his jeans and spitting into your palm before getting to work. He grunted into the slick fist you had made around him, letting out little moans that assured you he had missed you too.

‘Well-Ah, ah that’s so good- I guess the hard part would be deciding what to do afterward,’ he said, eyes shut and giving in to the sensation. You made a nonverbal sound urging him to continue,

‘I mean, you couldn’t just go back to the paper could you?’ he panted beneath you, ‘Neither of us could… But you might be too much fun to kill,’ the compliment within the ominous threat made your heart melt. You released his throbbing cock and he whined from lack of contact; he hissed through gritted teeth and grunted out your name when you angled yourself over him and took him inside at last. Rocking your hips a few times and enjoying the way he filled you, you said,

‘So don’t. Don’t kill me. I’ll go with you.’

A dark grin grew on Danny’s face as he realized what you were saying; he dragged his flat palms down your naked body, eyeing your perfect skin as he said,

‘Oh how you spoil me… But aren’t you a good girl?’

You began a pace bouncing on top of him as you countered,

‘I’m a lot of things.’

‘I can tell,’ Danny murmured, caressing your breast and running a thumb over the nipple, ‘but I’m not sure you could hang with a bad guy like me.’

Danny started to buck beneath you, meeting you as you fell against him and creating a deeper and harder burn in your core. Words escaped you as moans fell out of your mouth from ecstasy; Danny took over from here and gripped your pelvis, slamming into you roughly until you both cried from completion and he had completely spent himself inside. You slumped against him, unable to move enough to extract his softening member from inside yourself. He wrapped his arms around you as you both caught your breath, your head against his chest where you could hear this hammering heartbeat. You could feel the vibrations of his voice when he said,

‘And if I tried to kill you?’

‘Then I would have to run,’ you said, turning back to him for another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could have expected an update so soon?   
> Woof, as always please leave your thoughts in the comments! I am ~kind of~ thinking of wrapping this up soon, but continuing to write in this universe with other pairings... idk guys i think ace visconti is sexy in a Marc Maron type of way. I also see Danny as a toxic bisexual so maybe I'll write for him with other people! Maybe a terrifying Danny/Quentin pairing lmfao??? half of it would just be a knife fight i think
> 
> ok thank you all for reading, i care for you very much and i hope you are doing well and staying safe.
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 1- 'Guilty' Al Bowlly  
> referenced - 'With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming' Patti Page  
> \- 'You're My Thrill' Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 2- 'Behind Blue Eyes' The Who  
> Chapter 3- 'Stranger' Spencer Bare  
> Chapter 4- 'You're the Devil in Disguise' Elvis Presley  
> Chapter 5- 'I Walk the Line' Johnny Cash  
> Chapter 6- 'Holidays in the Sun' Sex Pistols  
> Chapter 7- 'Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)' Nancy Sinatra  
> Chapter 8- 'Tea for Two' Doris Day  
> Chapter 9- 'Shout' Tears for Fears  
> Chapter 10- 'I Get Along Without You Very Well' Chet Baker  
> Chapter 11- 'I Love You, Yes I Do' Tab Hunter  
> Chapter 12- 'St James Infirmary' Cab Calloway  
> Chapter 13- 'Mad About the Boy' Dinah Washington


	14. Are the Stars Out Tonight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, for now.

‘Please pull through to the next window!’ the mousy state park attendant hollered out the window of her booth, the veins on her neck flexing from exertion. A small white four-door sedan pulled in and at the driver’s seat of the vehicle was a handsome young man: he had pale blonde hair that had curled wildly around his strong face from driving with the window down. When he lowered his thick dark sunglasses and looked at the attendant directly she could see that he had perfect blue eyes. He shot her a quick smile before smiling at the woman in the passenger seat beside him who had also been looking at the attendant with kind eyes. She too was absolutely beautiful, although dark-skinned and dark-haired enough that she could tell the young couple weren’t local to Utah.

‘We’re looking to visit the park?’ the young man at the wheel said uncertainly, his eyebrows furrowed as he waved a hand in front of his face to block the sun directly overhead.

The attendant smiled; it wasn’t often she saw young couples like this looking to admire the holiness of nature. Young people were so focused on the future and technology, huddled around each other in dark rooms admiring synthetic pictures on screens. As she pulled out a parking pass for the man, she glanced down and saw they both wore simple silver bands on their left ring fingers. Seeing such a humble and devout couple was the highlight of the attendant’s day; it gave her hope for the future generation and their values.

The man nodded with thanks and took the parking pass from her, attempting to pull out of the lane before the attendant stopped him again. He stopped obediently, eyeing her carefully; the woman beside him had already moved on, flipping through a national park guide book. The attendant pulled two small pins wrapped in crinkly plastic wrapping out of the small drawer of her desk. They were rejects from the gift shop; souvenir pins advertising the national park but unable to be sold because the plastic wrapping had been peeled back before they could be purchased. The attendant found this to be an absurd concept and often pocketed the rejected pins before they could be tossed, holding them for some future child who would be excited to see the canyon. Something compelled her to gift the pins to the young couple, sharing a smile with the two of them as she passed them out the window. They offered one last wave and the attendant returned it, watching them as they drove farther into the red rocks.

‘Nice kids,’ she muttered to herself, before signaling the next vehicle through.

It was a relatively uneventful day. The attendant only ushered a few more cars in and out, taking a fifteen minute lunch break in the middle of the day at the picnic table beside her booth where she dined on a packaged ham sandwich. It was growing dark over the canyon when her mind returned to the young couple she had met earlier that day; she recalled that they hadn’t looked equipped for an overnight stay, and she still hadn’t seen them exit the park for the evening.

After making a few short calls to her fellow attendants around the park it alarmed her to find that none of them had spotted a couple matching their description all day. The attendant breathed out a thank you to the others on the walkie talkie she clutched to her chest. She ran through the events of her day over and over, trying to remember if she saw the two leave the park- what if she had imagined them altogether?

She dryly swallowed as she thought of her more senior peers at the park, who had warned her about what too much time in the canyon could do to your mind. The woman packed up all her belongings and threw them into her trunk before heavily sitting at the steering wheel with a sigh. She tapped her hands against the wheel anxiously as she muddled over what to do. The attendant was about a mile away from the exit when she decided to trust her gut feeling and turned the vehicle around to drive deeper into the canyon.

Too many women had already died that summer in Utah, all of their murders occurring within driving distance of the national park. She flipped her brights on and honked the horn once as she passed through a service tunnel, ignoring the way her heart skipped at the ghastly sound. Her hands led the vehicle as if in a daze, looping around the roads matter-of-factly. The attendant realized at some point that she was driving toward the third lookout peak, one of the highlights on this side of the park.

Her heart sank as she spotted the white sedan parked in the lookout’s outcrop. She pulled her Nissan alongside the car hastily, throwing on the emergency break and jumping out of the vehicle. The attendant sprinted to the top of the lookout as fast as she could, lungs strained as they tried to gather air in the high altitude. When she finally arrived at the peak, she spotted the couple sitting on the edge of the lookout beyond the protective barriers. She cried out for them to be careful but she could only dryly wheeze from lack of air. The attendant thought she had completely lost her marbles when a dark purple mist enveloped the two lovers, the edge, and everything around them. She screamed hard in what she thought was their direction, waving her hands wildly in front of her trying to maneuver across the gravely path. When her hands smacked against the hard metal of the railing, she left her common sense behind and climbed over the barrier continuing to scream because maybe at least she could save the young woman.

When the fog finally dissipated, the attendant looked down and saw she was just steps from the edge and falling to an untimely death herself. She screamed, landing on her backside roughly and pedaling backwards away from the high ledge; the couple had vanished. She could not mask her fear, hyperventilating and sticking her head between her legs trying to maintain some semblance of balance. Once her vision had cleared she peered over the ledge to see if she could spot the grim possibility of their wasted corpses; the canyon looked unchanged, peaceful and calm as ever. After a quick scope of the surrounding area, she could find no sign of the couple at all. Blinking a few times, the attendant stood up and dusted herself off dumbstruck.

When she turned around to return to her car, she spotted one of the pins on the ground still partially wrapped in its cheap cellophane packaging. Shaking her head, she played with the tiny piece of metal in one hand as she pulled her walkie talkie off the clip on her belt,

‘Hi guys,’ she said somberly as she listed her coordinates into the mic, ‘I’ve got bad news.’

Dying didn’t feel like you thought it would.

Danny said this would be easy and fun. You know, because he’s a freak. He kept saying it was the best way for him to remember you and home forever.

Admittedly, you had been scared.

He looked worried too; when he had laid one hand over yours as he gripped his knife tightly in the other there was a great uncertainty in his gaze all over again.

‘Are we doing this just because we feel like we have to?’ He asked, framed by the sunset lowering over Bryce Canyon. Truthfully, you didn’t know so you said nothing. He was dissatisfied with that response and asked again, shaking you a bit with a firm hand. All you could focus on was how lovely he looked in the orange light of late evening, but you attempted a response,

‘I don’t know, Danny. I guess I just thought this would always be how this ends.’

‘I know, I know’ he reasoned, ‘You’re right.’

He tensed again, lining the blade up so it would pierce the center of your person. He leaned in for a kiss and you accepted it eagerly, wanting to savor every last second with Danny. It felt like an eternity of lips against lips, each intake of breath a surprise as you somehow continued living.

You had assumed the blade had finally entered flesh when everything began to feel hazy around the two of you; the very ground disappeared underneath and all you felt was warmth building in your center and spilling out to your extremities. The scent of heather and lavender overwhelmed your senses and it felt so familiar to you it was unnerving.

Realizing this might not be what was supposed to happen, you opened your eyes only to see Danny still there staring back at you with a confused expression of his own, no longer bathed in the glow of evening. Instead, the stars dimly twinkled in an eternal black sky overhead. The two of you embraced without words, and he gripped you in a ferocious hug that left you breathless. After celebrating that you were still together, you both began to scan the area around to gather a sense of where you were. The sounds of shrieks and buzzing chainsaws in the distance confirmed your return to the Fog, the realization dawning on Danny’s face before he cracked his signature gap-toothed smile at you. You returned the smile in spite of yourself.

There was no home for you two on Earth anymore, and while this place wasn’t exactly perfect it had become home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise its me and this is the end  
> i think i just wanted to get to this ending to get it out of my head haha. originally the reader was supposed to die, can u believe?? but i couldnt get rid of that crazy gal. anyway, this is the end of this main story but it's certainly not the end of this pairing! Please leave pairing suggestions in the comments that you'd like to see in future works, or that would be interesting to read. I read all of your comments and consider them when i write!
> 
> thank you for such a warm welcome to the dbd fic community here. this is my first piece of personal creative writing in a long time and while i originally just wrote this for me im so happy you like it too. i look forward to writing more for you in the future :)
> 
> stay safe and see u on the other side x
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 1- 'Guilty' Al Bowlly  
> referenced - 'With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming' Patti Page  
> \- 'You're My Thrill' Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 2- 'Behind Blue Eyes' The Who  
> Chapter 3- 'Stranger' Spencer Bare  
> Chapter 4- 'You're the Devil in Disguise' Elvis Presley  
> Chapter 5- 'I Walk the Line' Johnny Cash  
> Chapter 6- 'Holidays in the Sun' Sex Pistols  
> Chapter 7- 'Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)' Nancy Sinatra  
> Chapter 8- 'Tea for Two' Doris Day  
> Chapter 9- 'Shout' Tears for Fears  
> Chapter 10- 'I Get Along Without You Very Well' Chet Baker  
> Chapter 11- 'I Love You, Yes I Do' Tab Hunter  
> Chapter 12- 'St James Infirmary' Cab Calloway  
> Chapter 13- 'Mad About the Boy' Dinah Washington  
> Chapter 14- 'I Only Have Eyes For You' the Flamingos


	15. Children, Have You Ever Met the Bogeyman Before?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, this is the beginning of the Halloween arc for real this time.

Being alive was hard.

Between the endless cycle of school and homework which transformed into work and bills, and adult social life crammed into a too-small blender to grind at until expiration, you had a boundless emotional life that didn’t keep well unnoticed. When other children frowned, you would weep with the full breadth and understanding of mourning; when other children smiled, you could have floated from the way the joy of the moment lifted your very heels off the ground. You were boundlessly creative and like most emotional creative voices, you struggled with depression very early on. Talking to boys was hard, talking to girls even harder; when the rejection of teenage friendship and romance arrived on your doorstep time and time again, your mother was prepared with tissues and an open knee for you to cry into as you cursed the very world the two of you stood upon. Rejection was often devastating, but it was one of your greatest weaknesses; even as the world turned its back on you, you were desperate to be understood and loved.

Honestly? It was kind of pathetic.

The only person that hated you more than them was you: when the others would leave you behind in the dust, you were the first one to reprimand and scold yourself for even conceiving of an idea so foolish as approaching them and begging for friendship. In your great efforts to be loved, you enacted the work of bullies so they didn’t have to get their hands dirty; no one had to waste time pummeling on the girl who already beat down on herself. Your mother would shake her head and shed a few tears of her own as she pet your tear-stained hair until it lay flat and greasy from the oils in her palm; how could she and your father have done so poorly to have raised such an unhappy child? Of course, it wasn’t their fault. The only real criminal here was the insufficient levels of serotonin and dopamine in your brain to balance out the cortisol and other useless chemicals that made you fall to the floor and sob until your belly ached. Your parents blamed themselves until they resented you for your unhappiness, believing that you were the root of their own sorrow. When you had been taken by the Fog with Danny, you hadn’t spoken with them in a few years. You hadn’t seen them in-person since your high school graduation; after that, you blew them off and built a life of your own.

Being not alive but also not exactly dead wasn’t amazing either.

Unsurprising, the other survivors were the first to reject you and seethe at your ability to go to and from real life with Danny; a modern Persephone, able to travel to Earth and collect mortal artifacts that represented human life occasionally and living the rest of your existence eternally by Danny’s side in Hades. To your broken brain and heart that yearned for Danny, the arrangement made sense; to the others, it was the ultimate betrayal. Not long ago, you probably would have felt the same. But things were so different now.

So different, even if everything looked the same.

Well, not entirely the same.

A sappy act of romance by the Entity, when you and Danny returned to the Fog you both materialized with the cheap silver bands you had picked up in a Utah pawn shop still on; at the time it had been a sick joke, a flimsy excuse to make strangers less nosy. Danny had kidded that the rings might have originally belonged to his birth parents, the shotgun marriage that was formed and terminated all because Danny decided to be born in a womb that didn’t want him. It had served as strong foreshadowing for the rest of his life and legacy: Danny was the type of guy no one really wanted around, always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Apparently his parents had been using a condom and his mother was on the pill at the time of his consummation, but some people are just meant to be born and Danny was a persistent fucker.

Maybe this had been the Entity’s plan all along, and She was the one that concocted how fate tied you and Danny together forever. Equal parts romantic and completely terrifying, depending on how you sliced it.

You rolled over, reveling in the way the warm flannel blankets of Danny’s cot scratched against your bare skin; since you had returned and the survivors had all but declared you dead to them (dead? What’s dead these days?) things had changed again and you had taken to staying in one of Danny’s many hidden studies strewn across the realm between the few matches you were summoned to. He had scrawled out a rudimentary map of them all (It had to be said: Danny was _terrible_ at art) and you had taken to playing a game with the Fog while Danny was in a trial and searching for each one. In the safer areas like the red forest and the Ormond resort they had been relatively easy to spot, inviting yourself inside and leaving Danny little notes he could stumble upon in the future; you still hadn’t gathered any amount of courage to enter an area like Haddonfield or the MacMillan Estate alone.

Come to think of it, it had been a while since you had seen Danny. Since you both returned to the Fog, aside from the two of you always being together, things were business as usual. He killed people, you attempted to not be killed. The Entity thought you were special, but obviously not special enough to skip the trials. The other survivors cooperated with you well enough, but if you got hooked you were on your own. While in life you had meager at best upper body strength, here you had grown accustomed to throwing your entire body weight off the industrial meat hooks while being pursued by the hounds of hell. Later, once you were dressed and cursing yourself for absentmindedness you went back to all the places you left notes for your lover: They were all untouched, no accompanying notes from him or any signs of life. Your stomach began to twist as your mind conceived of all the horrible things that could be happening to him or by him right now.

You shivered as your breath fogged in front of you, the snow of the Ormond resort getting the best of you. Teeth chattering, you blew into your pink hands and furiously rubbed them together to gather warmth. You were desperate for someone to talk to, but Danny was all you had and he was nowhere to be found. What were you going to do, talk to Quentin? That ship had sailed, docked, sailed again and been abandoned at sea. It had occurred to you then that you had never actually conceptualized of your existence here without him. Once he invited himself to into your door, you assumed his stay would be indefinite. It was upsetting to think that maybe he had changed his mind.

Danny’s vision bloomed in and out of focus as he attempted to stand and pull himself off the ground. His limbs felt numb and too-large, as if they had fallen asleep; he tried to blink but found that the tight skin of his eyelids was too inflamed to complete the action. After a few sorry attempts he was able to find his balance on the marble tiling of Lery’s institute. He never came here of his own volition, not entirely keen on the doctor’s company nor of hospitals. Danny tried to recall the past few hours, days, anything to remind him of how he came to be here now; there was nothing, his mind hazy and bloated with the intense desire to rage and destroy. The walls around him were glowing with a faint orange hue and after a few moments of horror he realized he was the source.

There were no mirrors in this desolate place but eventually Danny caught himself in the reflection of a broken panel of glass, finally able to confirm his worst fears.

His body radiated a sickly orange glow, pulsating in time with what used to be his heartbeat. The sticky orange matter began in the pit of his abdomen, burning away at flesh and bone, exposing his rib cage and proving that Danny indeed was just a man underneath it all. He cried out, attempting to lay a hand against the disgusting image in the glass; instead he let out an inhuman moan, shattering the glass with a heavy palmed slap.

Danny could feel himself disappearing and falling victim to whatever the fuck this malignant shit was. He scrambled down the hallway a little further, like a werewolf mid-transformation. He found another shard of reflective glass and took a second gaze at his ghoulish reflection, trying to study and discover what exactly had happened to him. He brought a mitt to his face and attempted to remove the mask, now a warped and twisted scream. It wouldn’t come off. He pulled as hard as he could with both hands gripping either side of the mask; he wailed in pain yet the mask stayed firmly in place. Danny flopped over falling on his back, until he felt the needle of the apparent syringe buried in his back press harder against his spine. He roared with red panic and anger, returning to his feet. Who the fuck had been able to sneak up on him and stab him in the back with a syringe full of…. Danny wasn’t sure what.

He loped down the maze of hallways, trying to find a way out so he could think and regroup his thoughts. There was a wet snarling noise coming from further away, and he stopped. He could hear little moans and blobs of spittle hitting the ground, like there were several inhuman monsters nearby. And then,

“Well, hello Ghosty.”

It was Frank’s voice, but he sounded…. Different. His voice was sweeter somehow, saccharine and insidious- like there was something hollow in his tone.

Danny waited at the end of the hall for Frank and his cronies to reveal themselves so he could just get it over with.

The thing that greeted Danny in the hallway could only be described as an abomination.

It ripped down the corridor toward him, faces cackling wickedly as it attempted to bring its blade down on Danny again and again. Danny raced in the opposite direction toward the closest exit, only one thought in his mind: he had to get to his survivor, before he lost too much of himself and it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Blight skins were released and I was very excited and inspired! 
> 
> Alright lads, let's dig into this second arc. Comment your thoughts, things you'd like to see, etc.
> 
> Hope you are all staying safe and well
> 
> x
> 
> Best part about new fic is new playlists:
> 
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall


	16. Take My Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just swallow your pride and talk to your friends.

Even if you hadn’t been taken by the Fog-if you and Danny had made it past 1998-you probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the future horrors of the United States and the Real World. In high school you had a relatively progressive history teacher who would show footage from the Vietnam War and the effects Agent Orange and other weapons of biowarfare had on the Vietnamese afterward; it had made you too nauseated for lunch period directly afterward. People who were barely old enough to be there for the attacks, much less mature enough to understand their significance, were permanently disfigured and suffering at the hands of a faceless Uncle Sam. Young men who had involuntary surrendered their bodies to this useless war came home with cancerous seeds planted in their flesh, a side effect of the mustard gas they had been assured by their captains was safe to use. Their mothers cradled them and cried with relief because their babies were finally home, unaware that soon they would have to take on the great misfortune of being a parent who buries their young child.

Agent Orange was just the beginning. You were still pretty young when they first started reporting the Cherobyl nuclear disaster and overflowing damage into Pripyat in American nightly news. The worst part, a stark contrast to learning about Vietnam, was that there weren’t pictures: There wasn’t a great wealth of information to know what exactly was happening, what the effects would be, and how to fix it. You learned quickly though that whatever it was, it was bad.

Nuclear warfare and disaster soon because a hot button issue in the United States, catapulting its people into a wild frenzy of paranoia and fear. A few days before the Halloween night that changed your life, you had been on a walk to a new video rental store and passed by the local college. There were teens holding ‘Save our Dying Planet’ signs and chanting to bored onlookers. At the time, people passed by without bothering to notice them but you could not ignore the way your heart pounded at the notion of the earth engulfed in flames.

Yeah, anything from the 2000’s onward, especially if it concerned the ozone layer, would have totally crushed you. Forget about Afghanistan, 9/11, SARS, Swine flu, and all the other states of emergency that ended up getting mankind get cataclysmically fucked over again and again.

You thought you had learned everything there was to know about the Fog, and the most comforting thing about this place was its sameness. Things did not change here: the Entity liked things to be run a certain way and that was the way they were run.

After the disastrous search for Danny turned unfruitful, you decided to place your pride to the side and return to the campfire… if only just to get some answers. It was definitely shocking when you could already spot Yui and Feng from several yards away as they both emanated a pulsating orange glow from the splatters on their clothing.

“… no, it burns for sure,” Yui was saying to the others around the fire as she clasped Feng’s clammy hand in her rough one, “but it feels good too, after a while. It’s difficult to explain.”

Yui shot another look at Feng, who for now was obviously suffering from adverse side effects of whatever poison they had encountered. As you approached the crackling fire, you crunched a particularly loud branch underfoot and all of the survivors who had gathered round turned to look at you. You meekly waved back. God, how embarrassing.

“Uh, so… I was wondering-“ you began, before Dwight interrupted you,

“Has _it_ touched you at all?” he queried, eyes squinting to spot any droplets of the orange ooze on you.

“No, I don’t even know what _it_ is,” you retorted with annoyance. Some warm welcome back from your brothers in the trenches.

Dwight accepted the response and quickly walked over to you, shyly placing a hand on your back as he led you back to the fire. You sat, and faced the others. He piped up again,

“How long has it been since you’ve been called to a trial? Who was it? Where have you been?” There was anger and worry in his voice, in a way that made your stomach twist with something like guilt. You could hardly even remember the last time the fog had swept you away,

“I don’t know. A long time. The last killer I saw…. Must have been the Oni. Something brutal. I thought the Entity was giving me a break, because of everything that’s happened. I thought it was just me?”

“It wasn’t just you,” Dwight cried, eyes darting to the others. “None of us have been called in ages. At some point we sent Yui, Feng and David to investigate but since they returned… they’re having a hard time even remembering _what_ they saw.”

“Whatever it was,” Yui said as she examined the substance stuck to her waistcoat, “it didn’t want us to remember. Like it was…. Trying to experiment on us, or administering an anesthetic of some kind.”

“What is that stuff?” you asked, uneasy at the sight of the clearly unsafe compound.

“We don’t know yet,” Dwight said, frustrated. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened before either, we just don’t know what causes it. It makes the killers…. Stronger, more brutal, less human like us.”

“And if we ingest it,” Yui mused, “it destroys us from the inside out. Not that any of us have been brave to test that out, but we think that’s what happens anyway. I hate this place.”

There was heavy silence, Yui kicking rocks and flicking twigs into the embers of the fire. Feng lifted her head after a few minutes,

“It calls itself the Blight.”

“What?” Yui’s eyebrows knit as she squeezed her friends hand even tighter.

“I saw it,” Feng said looking back at her, gathering her normal courage and confidence as she found the words, “it was the size of a regular man, wearing an old brown cloak. But that stuff….. the orange stuff was inside of him, it was all coming from him.” She shook her head as she recalled the sight, “his face was gone. He had no face at all.”

Several of the survivors shivered.

“You’ll have to stay with us,” Dwight said firmly to you, “I don’t know where you’ve been but it doesn’t matter now. You’re staying with us until we figure out what’s going on.”

You nodded, a little overwhelmed by this whole interaction with Dwight. He really was a good leader.

“What do we do now?” Yui asked Dwight, who simply shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“We wait.”

After a while of quiet chatting with your teammates around the fire, Quentin’s constant gaze fixed on you from the other side of the fire grew unbearable. The others clearly didn’t notice, David waxing poetic to Quentin as he looked on with intense disinterest. Finally, you flicked your eyes to meet his and he blinked a few times with surprise before continuing the stare. You didn’t let it last long as you stood and headed in the direction of the campsite cabins, shooting him a knowing look over your shoulder that said, ‘follow me’.

You were waiting underneath the weighted branches of a fir tree for several minutes before Quentin joined you, an uncertain smile on his face. He took a deep breath as if to speak before you quickly interjected,

“I was mean. That was wrong; you didn’t deserve any of that.”

The vulnerability in his expression was heartbreaking to see. He cleared his throat a few times, looking around and attempting to speak to anything other than you,

“I just didn’t understand. I still don’t understand. I feel like I was used for something that has nothing to do with me. I mean, what is even going on with you and that… Killer,” Quentin grimaced, “anyway?”

You sighed, sliding against the tree down to the wet grass of the ground. Splinters of wood broke off on the way down and scratched your arms and back, embedding themselves in your woolen sweater; whatever, you were busy feeling anxious and sorry for yourself. Quentin joined you.

“Okay, let me start from the beginning. Just please? Don’t judge me.”

Quentin nodded seriously, and so you told him everything.

“So, that’s it,” you breathed out a heavy sigh, summarizing a life time of personal demons and then a few months with an actual demon sneaking into your home and allowing you to fall in love with him. Quentin kept his gaze straight ahead as he had for the entire duration of your retelling; it was unclear whether that was for your sake, or his. He breathed out another long sigh, rubbing his face with his hands as if to wipe away his disappointment in the truth. When it became clear that he was not prepared to say anything, you asked him something that had been on your mind for a while,

“You never told the others, did you? About us or… him?”

He shook his head no,

“It wasn’t mine to tell.”

You digested the words, letting them settle in your mind. In spite of yourself, you chuckled with disbelief. He finally met your gaze with a perplexed expression,

“Damn, you’re an easygoing guy, aren’t you?” you laughed, because this felt way easier than it was supposed to be. Quentin snorted, barking a quick chortle that morphed into a full-on belly laugh. The two of you clutched your sides as you grew red in the face from hysterical laughter; nothing was funny, but you both had to release all the pent up emotional energy somehow.

Nearby, there was an inhuman wailing that shook you and Quentin enough that you both ceased in your laughter. Instinctively, the two of you crawled behind a tall tangle of branches where you wouldn’t be easily spotted. There was heavy footfall headed in your direction in a strange arrhythmic loping pattern. Cowering, you peaked out from the leaves but saw nothing no matter which direction you faced.

The creature howled again, closer; you shoved your body against Quentin’s into the brush until the creature gave up investigating this area. It panted heavily and whined a high-pitched noise like it was in pain, wounded from an attack of some kind. Chills ran down your spine trying to imagine what in this hell could create such a sound?

The monster let out its miserable cry once more as it fled back into the dark; maybe you were just listening for things that weren’t there, but it sounded like someone calling your name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello welcome to the plot hahahaaaa 
> 
> song is an 80's song because bb Quentin is BACK
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell


	17. With Only Me and My Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's your first trial with the Blight, and you're rusty.

“My fockin’ God,” David said examining his reflection in a broken mirror, “It’s taken my hair away. Jesus Christ, I look like a goddamn _egg_.”

He eyed himself miserably, obviously more upset by his physical attributes than the impending danger. Meg choked on laughter as she emerged from the brush and saw David at the campfire. David scowled at her reaction,

“Wot?? Have you got something to say?” Meg shook her head no, a wild grin on her face that she made little attempt to cover up. David sighed, tossing the mirror to the ground with a gentle thud.

“Ah know this place isn’t perfect,” David moaned, “but at least I was hotter ‘an hell, you know? Now ah’m nothin’ more than a lecherous old man.”

“Hey!” Ace shouted as he bridged his weathered deck of cards again nearby, “Nothing wrong with being a lecherous old man. We get a bad rep, eh?” He elbowed Bill, who was sitting in silence beside him,

“Please don’t make me a part of this,” Bill said gravely, Ace instantly withering beside him. The whole group chuckled now, taken victim by a rare moment of levity. Plus, it was always kind of funny when bad things happened to Ace.

“So,” Ace casually tried to save, “Anyone up for a game of ca-“

Deep from the woods, they could hear Claudette’s voice bellow,

“Come here, quick! There’s more of it, so much more of it!”

Claudette really was a brilliant mind, the way she was able to harness the power of the things that you all feared and turn them into useful tools to face the monsters. After she had demonstrated how to safely harvest the pustula flower, she freed the hearty assemblage of survivors to spread out in the radioactive field to farm. You had been dubious of her theories until you saw Dwight dig his whole hand into the bloom, causing a wet squishing sound. He shuddered, collecting the oozing serum in a dusty glass bottle once filched from a trial; so far, he still seemed his regular Dwight self, just a little more green in the face.

“Anything worth reporting?” Claudette asked him with a smirk, finally in her element.

“Nothing more horrifying than usual,” Dwight said as he shook his hand in a vain attempt to clean his palms of the putrid ooze.

Well, at least there was that.

Claudette smiled, as she gathered another sample of the orange goo herself. She held it up to the moonlight, examining its properties up close.

“I’m sure before too long,” she mused, “We’ll find a really good use for it. I just need a little time.”

Eventually, some of you would have to go back to the trial. Sometimes there were long spaces between matches as the Entity cooked up new demons for you to flee, but even this was long for Her. Whatever they were going to face in the trials, it must have been terrible. There was an unnamed air of dread and paranoia among the survivors, as the fog grew closer and closer; an ever-present reminder of the horrors that lay ahead.

Your heart was slamming in your chest when the heady scent of lavender overcame you, tendrils of fog collecting you for sacrifice at last.

“Ah fuck me,” David said from across the field the two of you had been scouring for more pustula blooms for Claudette’s experiments. You could see the fog envelope him as well, even as he swore and thrashed against it. He gave up his childish disobedience after a while, acknowledging there was no escape and letting the mist take him.

You took a few deep breaths trying to calm yourself. Your palms began to sweat as adrenaline found its way through your system. The field of vision in front of you grew blurry and undefined, and after a moment you realized you were crying pendulous, wet tears. You closed your eyes and wiped them away, and when you opened them again you were in the trial.

There was barely time to look around and decide where to go first when someone already fell to the ground on the other side of the map, the first victim to the killer. Maybe it had been too long and they had all grown rusty… or maybe their enemies had grown stronger.

The monster let out a mutant screech as it slammed against something large, shaking the ground of the arena. You peered around the broken cobbled bricks, trying to spot anything that matched the horrific sound you heard but there was nothing.

Hands shaking and muscles tensed, you hobbled over to the closest generator and got to work.

When you looked at the machinations in front of you, your mind went completely blank. You realized you couldn’t remember how to clean and repair the generator, even as your wracked your mind for the countless memories you must’ve had doing so.

Angrily you stuck your hands into the broken puzzle of cogs, twisting and hoping for the best. The generator immediately sputtered and exploded in your face, singing bits of your hair as you turned around to hack and cough into the ground. After the smoke cloud and burnt rubber smell had mostly subsided, you ditched the generator and tried to link up with another teammate. Maybe teamwork would be the answer to your suddenly neophyte skills.

David was inside the chapel, working on one of the generators tucked on the upper level. As you crawled through the rubble to get to him, he flicked his eyes in your direction and returned to the generator. When you sat beside him, he began to sniff the air with curiosity,

“Hm… Ah thought that was you. Ye smell like shite, love.”

“I’m aware,” you grimaced, mirroring David’s actions as he soldered together clipped wires on one side of the machine. Yes, once you started back into the motions it all came back; just like riding a bike. Riding a bike in a haunted house. And the bike is on fire.

The generator sprang to life and David grinned,

“Awlright, now that’s what I like to see! I’ll go get whoever’s been knocked down, you grab another gen.”

You nodded; it was clear you were not the only one suffering after the extended absence from trials, as another generator exploded in the distance. That same wild roaring reverberated through the cavernous ceiling as the monster passed underneath the two of you, in the direction of the explosion. You ran to the bannister to try and catch a glimpse but saw nothing other than the edge of a dusty brown robe. David shrugged his shoulder beside you and deftly dropped down from the second story window nearby, breaking into a run toward the fallen survivor.

Okay, time to find another generator.

As you gingerly crept out of the abandoned cathedral building you tried your best to spot any of the orange glowing goo, a clear sign and calling card of the killer. There was nothing, just dark and spacious open field. You stuck to the shadows as you hunted for the next generator to work on. David’s laughter rang out as he ran and looped the killer, a dull wooden bonk sound echoing as he threw a pallet on the monster’s head.

A crackling sound caught your attention so you began to investigate, only to find a small burning totem tucked behind some crates. Crouching, you quickly began the arduous work of untying the knots that held the structure together. This was one of the many unexplainable facets of the fog, but sometimes if you didn’t disassemble them things got a lot worse at the end of the trial. Sure, you weren’t sure exactly what they did, but totems were guaranteed Bad News.

The structure fell apart as you loosened the last leather band and blew out the lit candle inside.

It was quiet at first and then _loudloudloud_ as the monster sprinted up behind you and smashed you in the back of the head with a blunt object.

Everything went black.

When you woke up again, you were hanging on a hook in the corner of the arena where the creature had found you. The mess of cracked bones and skulls of the disassembled totem mocked you from where they lay. From what you could tell, there now was only one generator to complete. How long had they left you hanging on this hook?

A single haunting orange eye bore into you from behind a stone wall, and you then understood why no one was rushing to your aid: the killer was still with you. Just… watching you.

The last generator sputtered to life, signaling the beginning of the end. The killer didn’t move an inch, content to stare at you from where it perched.

The alarm blared as another teammate threw done the Exit Gate lever. That’s when the monster began to stir from its hiding place, shooting off in the direction of the gate. It was a blur of brown and orange, and you barely able to study it before Claudette pulled you off the hook. She had been hiding behind you the entire time, waiting for the right moment to free you. She grabbed your arm with one firm and strong hand and led you in the direction of the other exit. After moving a few meters from the hook she squatted and began to tend to your wounds. You were swallowing large gasps of pain as she wrapped your shoulder with bandages, trying to look anywhere but at the wound or Claudette’s blood-stained hands.

Your gaze connected with another lit totem, burning maliciously right beside Claudette’s leg.

“Wait-!” you cried out, already feeling the creature’s heavy footfall as it pounded against the earth in your direction. It slammed its grotesque form against a wall and then shot toward the two of you where you had stupidly crouched without much obstacle around you. Claudette jumped in surprise, throwing her form in front of yours to take a hit; the creature threw her off easily, and roared again. It was so close now, practically on top of you. Its face was a mess of spidery legs and orange ooze, a single eye glowing as orange spittle from its horrific maw splattered against your face.

You screamed and threw a hand in front of your face right as he went to stab himself with another syringe full of that noxious serum. The needle collided with your flesh, your veins filled with the mysterious potion. The creature and you both were surprised when it did not kill you. At first, your flesh began to bubble. You held the hand in front of your face as it began to hum and pulse with that same blighted glow. The monster was just as enraptured with the arm as you, its roars settling into dulcet and intrigued clicking and grumbles.

The sound of another alarm jolted you both back to reality, and from the other gate Claudette was pulling down the lever and screaming your name as she ordered you to run.

You leapt to your feet and the monster took a step back with surprise. Hastily, you turned around and bolted in the direction of the gate. Suddenly, the entire world went sickly slow as you continued to speed toward the gate. Everyone else was moving in slow motion, eyes wide and mouths screaming for you to join them at the exit. Behind you, you knew the monster was trying to catch up. For the entire match, you had not outran a single chase with this thing but now here you were colliding into Claudette’s arms where she waited. You both fell to the ground from the impact of your entrance, and all of you scrambled up to leave this place.

You looked back once more, just to catch another look at your new villain. What you weren’t expecting to find was the wild blighted trail you left in your wake. Strange.

At the tail end of it, the monster- the Blight, was still there. He breathed heavily, the hump of matted flesh and gore on his back moving with each inhale and exhale. He might’ve been able to still apprehend all of you at the gate, but it seemed as if he already got everything he needed from this trial.

You and your survivor team crashed back into the campfire, never really experiencing a smooth transition from the trials. You grinned wildly at Claudette, who was grinning back at you with excitement,

“I think I found a use for the serum.” You both said at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been rewatching buffy the vampire slayer and it shows lol
> 
> danny will be in the next one i swear, just needed to set up some ideas first. thank u for the continued support and patience, it means everything to me.
> 
> xx
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee


	18. I've Got You Under My Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny is having a bad time. The survivors welcome a new friend among their ranks.

Danny couldn’t believe how hot he felt, like his flesh was constantly ablaze as it peeled and charred off his body. For so long this realm had been his paradise, but at last he had gotten a true taste of Hell. The burn was a constant suffering as the serum intermixed with his blood, concocting something beyond humanity.

There were long chunks of time he couldn’t remember, when he couldn’t hold out mentally any longer and gave in to the beast. Usually it was when the Entity called him to trials, Danny regaining consciousness only when the last survivor stared blankly at him with glassy, dead eyes as the Entity collected them for feeding.

He really hoped he hadn’t done anything to her, not like this. Of course, there was no way for him to know for certain.

It felt like Danny was constantly battling to stay at the wheel of his own body, as it slowly fell victim to the poison that was constantly emptying into his spinal cord. He had tried to remove the syringe a few times to no avail, collapsing with pain; it was too deep, he was too far gone. God, he wished he could take some of his anger out on the thing that made him this way but he still wasn’t sure who or what exactly that was. If this was the Entity’s doing, She sure wasn’t telling him.

At some point, he had tried to return to one of his hideaways in an attempt to find his love or at least just rest safely for a moment. His body had betrayed him again, tearing open the doorframe of his cabin in the red forest and laying waste to what was inside. There was a small note from her on his desk within, but he had no time to read its contents as the paper turned to ash in his swelteringly hot hands.

That had been a really low point for Danny.

Control was important to him, perhaps the most important thing to him. Control was how he did his work; it was what made him who he was. As he lost his grip on everything, Danny could feel himself disappearing. He was ashamed of how easily he was willing to let go and fall into the nothingness, until he heard her one night in the woods. Sloppy, wet tears boiled out of his mask at the sound of her voice; a light in the darkness. When he heard the low timbre of a man’s voice alongside her, Danny’s skin prickled with jealousy and hatred. The voices were calm and relaxed as they spoke, not as if they were trapped in an eternal nightmare. Danny could taste the envy as he bit against the malignant tumor that used to be his tongue, seething as he listened to them laugh together. He felt himself slipping again as he tried to call for her, to let her know what was happening to him so she wouldn’t be afraid. His attempts crumbled into nothingness as the voices promptly stopped and the two survivors hid; he realized that for the first time he had frightened her without meaning to. Danny left the area before he could admit to himself that it was too late, and maybe he had run out of time.

He tried not to leave the Ormond resort, not sure who all had been affected by this toxic plague and unwilling to find out. At least here, he knew his enemy. The deformed monstrosity formerly known as the Legion kept guard over the main property, but even in their combined intelligence was too stupid to look in the shrouded corner of Danny’s hideout. That night he first saw them at the hospital they had gotten too close and were able to take a stab at Danny. As a result, he was now constantly hobbling, unable to be healed by even the Entity in his current form. This was his first tip off that led him to believe none of this had to do with Her, anyway. Something was amiss.

But Danny was in no position to play detective and gather information on his targets like he normally did. No, Danny was spending way too much time in the dark desperately trying to piece together clues. He had vague memories of the trials, although he failed to forget how he played in David King’s blood after a particularly rough match. He remembered staring at the campfire and studying the survivors faces, once he caught two of them in a secret kiss. Funny, he had never really assigned the rest of them much of a sexual identity but it turned out everyone needed physical and emotional respite from this place. Danny certainly wasn’t immune.

The next time Danny opened his eyes, she was staring right back at him. He had her pinned to the icy ground, her clothes and face dirty with mud, blood and the strange sticky serum. Her hair was different since he last saw her, shorter; flecks of snow were gathering on her wispy bangs and eyelashes. It pained him to know that he had been gone long enough for her to change. Tears ran down her face, her lip quivering as she continued to stare at him,

“Danny? Is that you?” She whispered.

“Why aren’t you freaked out? I feel like you should be more freaked out,” Dwight asked Felix with scrunched brows, anxiously biting his fingernails, “Right? Don’t you guys feel like he should be a little more freaked out?”

Felix had only been at the campfire for a few moments now and already he was being barraged with questions by their leader. He did seem oddly relaxed about the affair though, taking a moment to pick away a bit of ash from the campfire smoke that stuck to his blazer as he looked back at Dwight with a sigh,

“I’m okay. This all is,” he tilted his head thoughtfully, “not new to me. I’ve actually been trying to come here for a long time now.”

“What do you mean?” Claudette asked as she joined them, a vial of the orange serum in hand.

“I’m looking for my father,” Felix continued. “He was taken here a long time ago; I’ve seen this place before. I think I’ve seen that,” he nodded at the serum, “before too.”

He went on to share his upbringing and subsequent research with the survivors, about his secret society back in the real world that was dedicated to finding the lost people that were assembled around the campfire now.

“It’s crazy,” Felix chuckled, as he studied everyone’s faces, “I’ve been learning about you all for so long now, it stopped feeling like you were even real. But here you are…”

“Yeah, here we are,” Dwight said with a frown. Felix stood, grabbing a worn notebook from the inside breast pocket of his coat,

“Do you mind if I look around a little? Might as well get acquainted I suppose.”

“Yes!” Dwight jumped to his feet, “but let’s discuss some ground rules and best practices before I set you loose, okay? Wouldn’t want you getting hacked to pieces by the Huntress on your first day!”

Felix stared back at him quizzically, and Dwight shook his head as he led him off further into the survivor camp,

“Felix, my friend; you still have so much to learn.”

As their voices faded into the distance, the remaining survivors continued to rest around the fire. You returned to your work of rolling up old strips of fabric into gauze for the medkits; it wasn’t always the best resource, but in a pinch it was better than nothing.

“So Quentin,” David said loudly, breaking the silence like a brick through a glass window, “d’ya think we should go look for supplies?”

Quentin stared back at him from across the fire with a confused expression, and David coughed before turning a startling pink color. He nodded at Quentin knowingly, and Quentin also turned pink once he understood.

“Aghh, y-yes,” Quentin stuttered, scrambling to his feet “Supplies. Definitely can never get enough supplies, can you?” He nervously laughed, and they too left the fire.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked quietly once they had traveled a safe distance away, out of earshot.

“You’re not the only one with secrets,” Yui muttered with raised eyebrows as she whittled a piece of wood with a rock nearby.

“ _Ja,_ we have secret too,” Nea said playfully as she gripped Meg’s hand, Meg rolling her eyes and snatching the hand away. Nea laughed again, “I like it when she’s mean.”

You all laughed along with her, eyes shut and red in the face from Nea's incessant negging for Meg's affection.

You gasped for air, hiccupping with laughter. Your breath came out in puffs of fog, reacting to the misty cold of Ormond. Nea, Meg and Yui were all crouched beside you, behind a large hill with a rickety tower on top; a dirty generator sat underneath, begging to be repaired.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go, girls,” Nea said with a wicked grin as she crept forward and stuck her hands into the body of the machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am queer but for some reason everything i write is HELLA het so we're changing that starting here and now.
> 
> oof sorry for hurting danny like this, pls forgive me simps :(
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 18: "I've Got You Under My Skin" Sammy Davis Jr.


	19. I've Got a Six Pack and Nothing to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're taking a small detour. You know, for suspense.

David King’s affair with Quentin began like most things with him did: through a fist fight.

It’s not like David was afraid to deal with his emotions or blooming sexual identity, it wasn’t like that at all…. Okay, maybe it was like that but whatever David didn’t end up in hell to work through his feelings. All he knew was that he liked to fight dudes and after that whatever happened, happened.

When the survivors got really worked up over the violence and the pain combined with the inability to fight back in the trials, David knew it was time to pitch his fight club idea. It rarely worked, everyone rolling their eyes at his juvenile attempts to draw blood and get laid… but every now and then, there would be something dark in Dwight or Jake’s eyes and David knew it was _on._

The first time he and Quentin…. Well, it had been one of those nights.

It wasn’t strictly just the men; quite often Nea and Meg would trail behind, Yui finding her way to them before too long. Everyone dealt with their fate here differently; there was no wrong way, and David was in no position to judge anyone else. He knew as well as anyone here that sometimes you just needed to fucking _rage._

When Dwight and David had both stood up that night to head to their usual playing field, they were a little surprised when Quentin also stood up with a dark expression on his face.

“A-are you sure?” Dwight asked, genuinely concerned. _Like he’s one to talk,_ David scoffed inwardly. Quentin only nodded and continued walking with them. David didn’t care much either way, he just wasn’t going to give him a fucking hankie if he cried after the first hit. A few others trudged out to the clearing with them in silence; no one really questioned this activity anymore, chalking it up to another fucked up side effect of surviving in the Entity’s realm. This place had changed all of them, whether they liked it or not.

Jake retrieved the small bundle of twigs wrapped in leather hide, hidden in the hollow of an overturned tree in the clearing: it was all part of the ritual, now second nature. All the survivors gathered and drew twigs from the pile at random. The two survivors with the shortest twigs always fought first, that night being Dwight and Jake. They returned their draws to the pile (Dwight leaving his glasses behind as well) and began to square off as the rest of the survivors formed a loose circle around them.

Jake was very sudden in his blows, easily palming Dwight in the nose hard. Dwight’s hands flew to his face as blood collected in his cupped palms. David kept his gaze on Quentin the entire time, waiting for him to go pale and chicken out. He liked the kid, but at the time didn’t really see much in him other than someone to joke around with; David didn’t consider Quentin an equal. As he focused his gaze on the younger man, he saw as Quentin watched the fight unflinchingly; he didn’t move; only his eyes were flickering back and forth as blows were exchanged.

The fight ended when Dwight somehow managed to pin Jake into the dirt, smashing his bloody face into the soil. David wished he had been paying more attention to the impressive feat; obviously Dwight had a lot to work through tonight. The survivors always knew more or less when the match was over, and Dwight eagerly offered Jake his arm to help him back up. Jake silently accepted as the other pulled him to his feet. Wiping dirt from his face, Jake returned to the edge of the circle with Dwight and the others.

“Who’s next?” Dwight asked, wiping his glasses on his dirty t-shirt before putting them back on his nose.

David lifted his medium length twig proudly for inspection, a cocky expression on his face as he looked around for his opponent.

Quentin stared back at him, holding up his own twig.

“No,” David said immediately, tossing the twig onto the pile.

“No?” Quentin sneered, offended. David raised his eyebrows at him,

“No. Ah’m not here t’play games, boy.”

“Well,” Quentin clenched his fists and dug his heels into the ground, “Neither am I. Fucking fight me, King.”

Well, David wasn’t going to be rude.

“Foine, have at it. Ah’ll give ya the first hit,” David smirked, attempting to emasculate the other man. Quentin rushed forward with a fist raised and David caught it easily in one large palm, quickly landing a blow against his face with the other. Quentin fussed as he tried to yank his arm back, nose spewing crimson blood; David taunted him as he gripped his arm tighter and tighter. In a sudden movement, David forced Quentin toward him, leaning his forehead against his and chuckling as he felt uneasy sweat form on the others’ brow.

“Just give up,” he muttered with gritted teeth, “This is no place for someone like you.”

David saw stars as Quentin brought his head back and smashed it into the others’; he fell back with a thud and Quentin loomed over him, blood dripping from his nose onto David’s shirt. David grinned back at him wildly, shoving Quentin’s leg out from under him and sending him toppling to the ground. David quickly scrambled on top of the other, sitting on him and holding him in place as he threw punch after punch.

“Enough!” Dwight cried, trying to pull David off of him when it was clear there was no way for Quentin to fight back. David was thrashing against him, and once Quentin had been released he quickly righted himself only to throw himself back at David, snarling like a wild animal.

Quentin was practically foaming at the mouth as he knocked David out of Dwight’s grip and wrestled him back to the ground, attempting to choke the other man. Now David was stuck, growing purple in the face as Quentin clenched his hands until his knuckles were white.

This time both Jake and Dwight intervened to separate the two men, and end the bloody quarrel.

The sound of panting filled the woods, as David and Quentin collected themselves on either side of the clearing. Jake was cleaning dirt and blood off of Quentin’s face while David shoved away any hands that attempted to aid him.

“I don’t care if you kill each other,” Dwight said angrily as he addressed the two brawlers, “but you can’t do it here. I won’t be complicit in that, so leave us out of whatever is going on with you two.”

David and Quentin stared at one another, and then both stood and headed off further into the woods.

“Hey!” Dwight called after them, “I wasn’t being serious! W-wait, be careful!”

It was kicking, punching and thrashing for what felt like hours, days even. Each time David thought Quentin was finished, the young man righted himself carefully and brought his fists up for another round; he was like a goddamn mule.

David never knew how to explain it; how the fighting transformed into fucking. Maybe it was always about fucking, about exuding power over another; maybe inevitably it was all the same. David didn’t like to kiss, but he made his wants known as he bit Quentin in the neck while he had him pinned to the ground. Quentin didn’t even flinch, baring his blood- tinted teeth as he endured the pain. They rushed to rip each other’s cloths off, leaving all semblance of grace or dignity behind.

Quentin admittedly was reaching a point where he stopped knowing what to do when David got down on all fours, pressing his muscular backside against Quentin’s crotch.

Oh, okay. Quentin could do that.

He coughed up a lob of spit that he hocked onto David’s left ass cheek, swirling his dick in it before rubbing his tender head against David’s entrance. Both men shivered, taken by this sanguineous and forbidden pleasure. Just minutes ago they were fighting and now-

“Uh, can I uhm, do… anything for you?” Quentin asked, thanking his stars that he was behind him and David could not see the horrific blush growing on his face and chest, “Like, to prepare you?”

David coughed beneath him, and Quentin shuddered as he watched his sphincter contract with the motion,

“Ah, no, I want it t’hurt,” David grunted from beneath him, “And no more talking.”

Quentin spit into his palm and tugged himself a few more times before pressing into David slowly, savoring the guttural moan that escaped the other man’s mouth.

When it was over, Quentin’s eyes rolling back as he emptied his orgasm onto David’s back, there was nothing but silence as both men dressed. Quentin had offered to return the favor and help David get off but he declined, giving himself a dry hand job until he came easily into his meaty fist. David had finished first, not even offering Quentin a look as he disappeared back into the woods. Quentin didn’t know how to react as he stood up and dusted himself off, walking off in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have nothing to say.
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 18: "I've Got You Under My Skin" Sammy Davis Jr.  
> Chapter 19: "Six Pack" Black Flag


	20. The House is Haunted by the Echo of Your Last Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You see Danny in the trial, but not like you remember him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want some escapism dont u want some escapism

The biting cold of Ormond was particularly punishing today, each gust of wind threatening to rip all the warmth from your bones. Nea’s confident attitude had certainly not rubbed off on you; it was clear she saw the trials as more of a game than anything, however the pain still felt all too real for you to entertain such an idea.

That being said, the four of you made a real good team. Caught at a bad time, no one was equipped with any type of help aside from you: the sorry little medkit you were working on when the fog whisked you away was still clamped tight in your right hand. The four of you pushed the first generator to the limit, bringing it to full working order in record time. Yui, Nea and Meg were some of the most capable repairmen among the survivors and as long as you managed not to blow anything up you were guaranteed an easy exit through the gate. Maybe you would even pick up a new item on the way out.

The generator jumped to life, lights shining white overhead as the four of you split up in opposing directions. Judging by the lack of noise or general distress from the killer, you had guessed it must have been one of the stealthier killers. Something in the pit of your stomach truly died when you realized that this might have been where Danny had been the whole time you were looking for him. You shook the idealistic thought from your head as you buckled down on the generator located inside the lodge itself. Every few seconds or so, you made sure to do a quick scan of the area around you in anticipation of the inevitable danger.

It felt like it had been far too quiet for too long, enough so that you decided to do a loop of the area after you finished the generator; just to check and make sure there was a killer present, and that this wasn’t another strange new idea of the Entity’s making.

Just as you were about to solder together the final bit of wiring to complete the repair, Yui’s shriek of horror reverberated throughout the snow-covered arena followed by a low inhuman howl. You shivered again, your nerves and the bitter freezing weather of Ormond getting the best of you again. Yui screamed again as she hit the ground, simultaneous with the sound of two generators pinging to life. You ditched as soon as the lights in the resort turned on, sprinting in Yui’s direction to collect her when she inevitably was hooked. The killer hooked Yui and headed in the direction of where Nea and probably Meg popped the other generator. There were only two more to go, as you lifted Yui off the hook and took a knee nearby to begin mending her wounds.

“They’re fast now- like that _thing_ ,” she grunted, maintaining a brave face despite the gaping wound in her shoulder. As you dressed the injury she described how the killer had injected themself with a syringe same as the Blight, rushing at her when she least expected it.

“I thought I had more _time_ than that,” she went on, “I guess we’re not the only ones trying to make the most of this.”

You pinned the last of the bandaging in place and she muttered a thank you as the two of you headed in the direction of another broken generator. It was creepy, the large gaps of silence between the killer making themselves known. You still had no idea who it was, and you took a breath in anticipation of asking Yui when both Nea and Meg hit the ground on the other side of the map near the killer shack.

“Fuck” you whispered, resting your head against the rumbling generator. Yui scowled and wiped the grease off your forehead,

“Don’t do that, it’s disgusting. Also don’t mope. I’ll go get them, you finish this and then join us there to heal, okay?”

You met her steady gaze and gave a pathetic nod. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled,

“No worries. We’re gonna get through this. ‘Let’s go, girls’ right?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled wearily, “’Let’s go, girls.’”

Yui charged off toward the killer shack as Nea was impaled on a hook in the basement, her screams quieted by the layers of wood and stone between you. You inhaled through your nose, exhaling through the mouth slowly as you continued to twist the gears inside the body of the generator until they rolled into place. When you were a child, you briefly wanted to be a mechanic. It felt like a stupid thought now.

The generator was about eighty percent done when you began to feel your heartbeat growing louder and thrumming in your ears; the killer must have been close. In the distance, Yui was unhooking Meg and Nea in the basement so you did what any good teammate would do and hid in a locker right next to the chugging generator. Your vision was obscured by the creaky iron doors of the locker, but you could hear as your assailant trudged around the area looking for you. It traveled with a limp and was making low whimpering sounds like an animal in pain; more than anything you wanted to open the locker even just a centimeter so you could see who this new killer was, but even that was a threat to your safety now. The creature paused for a moment right beside the locker you were enclosed in, sniffing the air and emitting a low rumbling sound. It was disturbing how it almost sounded like it was trying to say words, settling on demonic screeching instead. You held your breath as it sighed next to the locker over and over, growing closer with each painful gait.

Meg groaned loudly as Nea yanked the bandage around her wound tightly. Even from here, you could hear Nea chastising Meg and telling her not to be such a baby. The creature shuddered, and began trampling in their direction. As soon as it was a safe distance away, you threw the locker doors open and began gulping down fresh air. You immediately hopped back on the generator and worked it to completion, leaving only one generator remaining until the exit gates would be powered. The middle section had been rough but it looked like you four were going to get ou-

Meg shrieked again, although this time it was less of ‘Ow that bandage is too tight’ shriek and more of a ‘Oh no this man is stabbing me in the back’ kind of a shriek. You ran in their direction, hoping to catch Meg as soon as she was hooked and rescue her. Once you arrived within a few meters of her and the killer, instead of hearing the familiar wet sound of a hook impacting flesh there was the subtle clicking of a digital camera taking photos. Your blood ran cold with recognition, trying to marry the ideas of the Ghostface and whatever creature stood before you now.

Meg let out a heavy moan as she died, her head thudding thickly against the frozen dirt. The monster stood up from her corpse-still not having noticed you- and trudged off in search of the others. You let out a dry sob as you stood up, racing off in the opposite direction.

You tried to focus only on escape while you repaired the last generator, hearing Nea and Yui being mori’ed on the other side of the map; you all had been so close to escape. Trying to steady your panicked breathing you continued to solder wires together, content to interpret the way the sparks burned your fingertips as collected warmth in this tundra of doom. The generator blared with the sound of completion as the creature knocked you to the ground, all the air exiting your system before you knew what was happening. You cried, shielding your face with your arms as the monster thrashed on top of you ripping thin scratches anywhere it had purchase. After a while it began to slow down, the creature slowing its wet gasps of breath as it studied you.

Only then did you lower your arms and finally see the beast for who he was.

“Danny? Is that you?”

At first, all you could do was look at him and cry. You couldn’t even hold him, each time you drew close his flesh radiating such a heat that it burned you. He looked at you, weeping sickly orange tears from the hollow eyes of his mask as he groaned something that sounded like your name.

“Danny,” you said carefully, “I have to finish the generator, so that I can escape in case you try to hurt me again.”

He nodded dumbly back, kneeling beside you obediently as you worked on the tired machinery.

“I’m gonna fix this,” you said over and over, more so to yourself than Danny, “I’m gonna find a way to fix this, and it’s going to be okay.”

Fuck, you hoped you were right.

The last generator powered on and the exit gates started their usual wailing. Danny twitched beside you as you hopped up to run toward one of them.

“A-are you okay?” you asked sheepishly as he began huffing and growling again. You didn’t wait for an answer, sprinting for the closest gate. The moment of clarity had passed for Danny, the serum taking hold of him again.

Wow, Danny chasing you with a knife? Just like old times.

Putting a buffer of distance between you and him, you began to throw down the lever of the exit gate. It whined as it slowly opened, each second feeling agonizingly long. You could hear Danny quickly catching up with you, oozing a trail of Blight behind him. It occurred to you there was no way you were going to open the gate in time. You let go, furiously hurdling yourself through an obstacle course of vaults and pallets that Danny had no chance of completing quickly, especially not in his current state.

The Entity must’ve thought you had done something really good recently, when you suddenly heard the heavenly sound of the open hatch door. You scrambled toward the sound, perplexed as you overheard Danny’s heavy steps catching up already. You turned around from above the hatch, just long enough to call out to him,

“I still love you, and I’m sorry!”

He stopped running for a moment, cocking his head to the side as if confused. By that point, you were already long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo its very hard to be alive and be a person in general right now.  
> keep your head up and know that i believe in you and your abilities. 
> 
> sorry for kind of a bummer of a chapter, but we all knew it had to happen eventually :/
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 18: "I've Got You Under My Skin" Sammy Davis Jr.  
> Chapter 19: "Six Pack" Black Flag  
> Chapter 20: "The House is Haunted" Glen Gray & The Casa Loma Orchestra


	21. Just For a Tender Kiss, or Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't go back to the campfire.

You didn’t go back to the campfire. There was blackness and nothing as you fell and fell and fell. It could have been hours of endless black falling and in your delirium you wondered if you had finally died, your soul at last snipped free from the Entity’s clutches. You were snapped back to reality when your feet made contact with the ground, without great force on impact.

In front of you was your childhood home, a dark and tall spindly house. The sky overhead was pitch black, the only source of light burning from within the building, backlighting it in an orange glow. The sight was almost ghoulish, a jack-o-lantern facsimile of the home you knew. Now more like a cardboard cutout of your memories.

Carefully taking a few steps forward, the grass crunched underfoot like scraps of craft paper. As you clutched the flimsy bannister and placed a foot on the first step, it sunk beneath you and created an imprint of the sole of your sneaker. It seemed silly, but you still wiped your feet on the foam mat at the front door. Crumbles and flecks of ash that had been embedded underfoot freed themselves as you dragged your shoes through the mat.

You didn’t know why, but it wasn’t a surprise when you stepped through the open doorway into the front room devoid of furniture. The fire was blazing angrily in the hearth in the center of the room, the source of the hypnotic orange hue silhouetting the house. In front of the fire was Danny, lying nude and unconscious in the fetal position. The flickering light of the fire illuminated the curve of his spine, catching the small dimples in the flesh of his lower back. His muscular thighs and calves twitched as he dreamed through fitful sleep, curling the toes of his long rabbit feet. Danny looked so innocent here, white-blonde hair grown shaggy, eyelashes fluttering as his chest raised and lowered with shaky breaths.

You kneeled beside him, collecting his head in your lap as you too warmed beside the fire. Only now did you notice your hair and clothes were soaked with rain, cold enough to make you shiver. His eyes slowly opened with recognition, a lazy grin growing on his face as he caressed your arms with gentle hands. His skin was soft and perfect, his most prominent wrinkles in the corners of his eyes as he smiled. It felt real, he felt real.

“Hey,” you said carefully, tears obscuring your vision despite your best efforts to appear cool and relaxed.

“Hey,” he replied evenly, giving your arms a squeeze and then slowly moving himself to a seated position where he could look at you. The fire crackled behind him as the lone source of light in the room, casting long shadows that danced on his skin.

“I think something’s wrong with me,” he said plainly with a smile. He remained calm and unemotional, resigned to his destiny. You shot a look back at him, aghast.

“Yeah, you _think?_ What’s going on? Where have you been?”

He wiped your tears away, “Don’t cry, you’re not a pretty crier,” you frowned at him (to suppress laughter because… Wow, rude) and he shot you a toothy grin, “Kidding. Well, half-kidding. Where I’ve been has been as much a mystery to me as it is to you, I’m afraid.” Danny sighed with frustration, combing his long fingers through his hair a few times thoughtfully.

You stood again, desperately looking around the room in seek of an answer. There was nothing, aside from a spiral staircase that was now too decrepit to be ascended. Eventually, the entire house was bound to catch light and burn.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” you asked frantically, a panic attack building in your throat. He shrugged his shoulders,

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, Danny.”

“Me neither.”

“Well, what are _you_ going to do?” you seethed, becoming frustrated with his glib attitude. He stared back, unaffected by the outburst.

“Nothing, I guess. Wait. Enjoy having my real body, and a warm fire,” he cast his eyes aside, “good company.”

“Am I dreaming? Are you dreaming? Can we even do that here?” You ignored him through your rant, nervously touching your face in an investigation of physical permanence. Danny was on his feet in moments, callously grabbing your wrists in his hands. His right eye twitched as he spoke to you calmly,

“I don’t know anything more than you here. This is not my field of expertise. But it’s been a long time- _longer than I’d like_ \- since I have seen you,” his grip tightened on your wrists verging on becoming painful, “And I’d _really_ like to have a nice time.” There was something desperate and pained in his voice, “Can we do that? I haven’t felt like myself in a while, and I am hoping to take advantage of this moment.”

You nodded your head, taking deep shaky breaths to steady your hammering heartbeat. Releasing his grasp on you, he collected you in his lanky arms as you continued in your attempts to calm yourself. He petted your hair, resting his chin on top of your head as he played carefully with the coils.

“You’re soaked,” he laughed as he shook his head with amazement, peeling the damp scraps of fabric off your body.

“Tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes, laughing with him and assisting him in removing the ruined garments. Upon completion, the two of you stared at each other in close examination; even completely naked, you felt no self-consciousness or apprehension from his gaze. Everything felt cozy and gentle as the flames of the fire kissed warmth back into your bones.

Danny was the first to step forward, meeting you in a kiss.

His lips crashed against yours, a collision of tongues and teeth as he tried to make contact with any part of you he could. He was feral, raw, biting your lip when you finally came up for air.

“Are you okay?” You breathed, observing his blown pupils as he stared back with intense focus.

“I feel like I could devour you whole if there was nothing to stop me.”

Instead of attempting to piece together some feeble attempt at a response to that, you shoved him to the ground. Nice one.

Straddling him, you returned to the kiss; it was frantic and rushed, wanting more than anything to return to the comfort of a body that knows yours. He groaned with pleasure and excitement, gripping your hips. Before you were aware of his intentions, Danny flipped you over so now he was on top of you with a satisfied smirk; what a control freak.

“Touch me,” he said, nodding to his already semi-hard cock. You obliged, tilting your head to spit into your hand and find Danny’s member. He shuddered when you made contact, sighing into your neck as you stroked him until he was fully erect. When he felt ready, he moved your hand away.

He entered you, giving you a small bruise as he bit your shoulder. The sudden sensation of intense warmth to your core was overwhelming, your thighs wrapping around Danny in an iron grip as he established a pace. The world was dead silent, the only sounds being the fire’s roar, and the depraved slapping sounds of skin on skin. The pleasure was too great that all you could do was clench your eyes shut and endure the pounding waves of euphoria. When you were able to open them, Danny was always there panting over you as if transfixed by your very presence.

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” he muttered, tipping his head back as his thrusts picked up in pace.

Your thighs contracted and squeezed against him tighter as you approached orgasm, an intense heat coursing through you. You cried out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, one hand now devoted to your clit.

Neither of you were surprised when the staircase collapsed, the flames of the fire escaping their grate from the quake and setting off the domino arrangement that would soon bring the entire structure to ash. Danny kept up his punishing pace as you yanked fists of his hair, forcing him to look at you.

“Don’t forget about me,” you sighed between thrusts, Danny only able to nod and moan in response. He hid his face in your neck as the flames grew unbearably close, inhaling the scent of your hair as he chased completion. There was no pain when the fire began licking at your legs and arms, Danny and you finishing together in a blaze.

Danny flinched awake and found himself strapped to a gurney in Lery’s Memorial Institute, the sterile buzzing sound of the overhead light reverberating through the examination chamber. He stared down at his limbs, one still glowing with the haunted orange serum, the other looking exceptionally human underneath the _Hulk’_ ed out strips of fabric that used to be gloves. He began looking around the room, seeing his mutated mask on a table next to a series of harsh metal tools: He shivered at the thought of what his bare face could possibly look like right now.

As he peered down farther, he sucked air through his teeth at the sight of his broken leg. What had begun as a simple stab wound, through the rigorous toxic damage of the blight serum and Danny’s dissociative and destructive episodes had now turned his bones brittle and cracked; and now as the blight serum was wearing off, he could see his leg was clearly _fucked up_. At some point the bones had broken and started grinding against each other as Danny continued to feverishly hunt in the trials, causing the bones to shift out of alignment and fuse incorrectly. Now, even as the flesh healed over on top of the wound Danny could see the bump of tight skin stretched over where the broken bones incorrectly intersected and healed together. Sick with curiosity to the core, he swiftly attempted to flex his foot; he screamed in pain, vision filling with black spots as the pain radiated in his calf. Danny was attempting not to wretch up stomach bile when he began to observe the sound of someone approaching through the hall.

A thing entered through the doorway, its wet coughs articulating each spidery step it took further and closer to Danny. It said something like ‘ _Oh good, you’re awake’_ although Danny wasn’t sure how he knew that because all he was hearing was clicking and groaning from the beast. Shaking from cold sweat, Danny nodded slowly at the monster as he appraised it: it was a cloaked creature, a pulsating mess of tangerine ooze and spider claws similar to that of the Entity. However, whatever this thing was it was evidently clear it was not Her. Danny spied the syringe in the creature’s shoulder,

“We can help each other. Please, help me break free of these restraints so we can get out of here and remove the poison.”

Maybe he was too weak to be smart right now, the monster doing something like sinister laughing as it carefully began to undo the restraints on his legs. Danny was preparing to thank this benevolent creature, when it harshly yanked on the injured limb. Danny screamed, throwing his head back from the torture. The creature tutted back,

_‘I am trying to help you.’_

Danny was crying, too overwhelmed to keep his eyes open when the thing yanked on his leg again in an attempt to reset the bones. All he could do was scream as the monster pulled and pulled, massaging the bones apart so he could put them back together. Danny was asking the Entity to let him die when finally a disturbing crack sounded from his leg as the bones separated again. Before he could even react the monster had stabbed another syringe of the poisonous serum deep into his shoulder. Danny howled until he was red in the face, the world spotting and disappearing farther away from him with every second.

 _‘Don’t worry, I’m going to fix you,_ ’ the thing said _, ‘and then I’m going to release you back into the wild. Catch and release, catch and release…. Nice and easy, that’s what I always say…’_

Danny’s vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing to see here :)
> 
> thank you for all the support from readers who have been with this since it began as well as readers who are just finding this now. i appreciate all of you, and i hope you are staying safe and well during this admittedly very weird and fucked up time.  
> xx
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 18: "I've Got You Under My Skin" Sammy Davis Jr.  
> Chapter 19: "Six Pack" Black Flag  
> Chapter 20: "The House is Haunted" Glen Gray & The Casa Loma Orchestra  
> Chapter 21: "(I Don't Stand) A Ghost of a Chance" Helen Forrest


	22. The Hero's Dead, the New King is Crowned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Legion. That's it, that's the tweet.

The worst part about facing the Legion in the trials was that Susie was always crying. It was no secret that she did not enjoy her time in the Fog, the survivors respectfully ignoring her when they caught her spying on their group antics from the shadowy trees. She posed no threat she just… clearly didn’t belong there. Often, you and the others wondered if she was content with her placement among the bloodthirsty Legion. In a desperate attempt to cling to your own humanity, you and the survivors were constantly appealing to the humanity of your captors with mixed results.

If the Legion had any, they didn’t show it. All of them had grown to accept if not enjoy their blood sacrament with the Entity, Julie and Joey both becoming as insidious and brutal as their leader.

The Blight’s experiment on them had highlighted one crucial weakness however: The Legion was not as synchronous as they claimed, victim to their own addiction to independence. You know, just your standard young adult identity shit that none of them ever had the opportunity to grow out of. In their blighted state, the Legion’s torso was constantly oozing from where Joey had attempted to rip free of the abomination; the Blight, when he would retrieve them afterward and sew them back together refused to mend this wound on principle alone claiming that they had not ‘learned their lesson’. As a result, the Legion was always in pain and because of _that_ Susie was always crying and _fucking_ complaining.

Frank was significantly comfortable with battling the voices in his head, but now with his Legion crammed inside too it was getting a little too snug for his taste. Even if the others were too dumb to realize, too busy being tortured by their current circumstances, Frank knew they had to get to the Entity to get Her to fix them. And in order to do that, they needed to get rid of their temporary _creator_. In their close contact with the mad alchemist, Frank had been studying and learning from him… Waiting until the time was right. He wasn’t as powerful as he acted, in fact Frank wondered as he saw the chemist inject himself again and again if he might be the weakest one there.

Blame society, but Frank wasn’t keen on being some type of kept lab rat. He longed to return to his life as a prince of chaos, the only tears he would hear belonging to the victim of his stab wounds. Now as he was whizzing past the mountains of totaled cars he couldn’t even focus as Susie continued to weep into their ear,

“ _Frank, no, please…. Frank, it hurts I need to stop…. Someone_ help _us….”_

When he finally stumbled into a clearing and saw you, attempting to pull apart a dull totem and foolishly getting the twine tangled in your fingers like a kitten with a ball of yarn…. Well, that was the best thing to have happened in a while for Frank.

“Hello, kitten,” He snarled, marveling at the fear in your eyes when you whipped your head around to meet his gaze.

God, Frank could’ve listened to you scream all night. Easily fighting back against Susie as she tried to get him to retract the blade, he brought his knife down on you again and again.

Your head was throbbing when you cracked your eyes open again, on a bare mattress with a blanket thrown carelessly over you. A worn teddy bear had also been placed beside your head, winking back at you when it’s one-button eyed gaze. The thread on its nose was falling apart from too many years of being lovingly kissed. Appreciating the subtle comfort of the mattress, you cast your gaze around the room trying to gather information on where you were. The open crack in the ceiling of the room allowing snow to fall directly inside made it obvious you were at Ormond. The last few moments you could remember flashed before your eyes: appearing in the trial, getting lost, and squatting to take apart a totem and then-

The door opened, the mutated form of the Legion appearing its frame. It took a few wary steps forward as it snarled and sniffed back tears, before taking a seat in one of the tired armchairs beside the bed. As it inhaled to begin speaking, the orange blighted ooze dribbled out from beneath the mask.

“Long time, no see,” it said, vocally sounding like Frank but different… somehow distant. You could only nod back, not sure what was going on. Nodding was incredibly painful, and you grazed a hand over the back of your neck where chunks of dried blood had collected mysteriously absent of a wound.

“Your boyfriend’s in the woods out back,” Frank said, “I was thinking if I kept you up here maybe I could get his attention.”

Despite the toxic and sluggish sound of his voice, his tone was casual and playful even; he didn’t necessarily look or sound like Frank, but that was definitely him in there.

“Why?” you croaked out, still not sure how or why you ended up in another dangerous killer’s bed.

Frank sighed, “I’m tired of this shit, aren’t you tired of this shit?”

As if on cue, directly behind him Susie’s hiccup-y breaths became wails of pain and misery. Your head blared from the terrible sound, your swollen brain straining against your too-small skull. All you could do was shut your eyes and cover your ears to the best of your ability to mute the sound. As the moans and whimpers continued you popped one eye open to look at Frank and all he could do was nod empathetically back.

“That thing, the guy who changed all of us,” Frank continued, fighting over Susie for volume control, “His plants are dying. Before too long the season will be over, and he won’t be able to pull this shit anymore. But we need to speed up the process-“He stopped for a moment to slap himself in the back in the head in an attempt to silence Susie, “-and I can’t do it by myself.”

You raised your eyebrows in spite of yourself because _wow, wasn’t that interesting?_

“Why me?”

“I know I’m not the only one with a bone to pick with this freak.”

And then Frank began to lay out his plan. 

“I’m telling you, it’s in the best interest of all of us,” you attempted to explain to the campfire of survivors. They were resistant to the idea, at best.

“Set fire to the pustula?” Claudette asked, incredulous, “Doesn’t this sort of seem like they’re trying to trick us into sabotaging ourselves?”

A few of the others nodded along with her.

“I mean, let’s be honest the blight hasn’t worked for us nearly as well as it’s worked for them,” you countered, “If we end this, everything gets easier; the sooner, the better.”

This made sense, and appealed to the uncertain survivors. This season of the blight had been a harrowing one at best.

After an evening of debating the issue, the group decided to side with you and end the treachery sooner rather than later.

The little bruise on your shoulder from where Danny had bit you served as a reminder to keep pressing forward; reality was precarious, and it was time to bend it to your will.

You were going to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a little short, but despite my best efforts i think it's time to end this arc?? i've got one chapter left i think.
> 
> blegh, maybe i should write something new. pls leave comments, thoughts, feelings, i honestly am unsure of what i'd like to write next! 
> 
> thanks for reading, you all are so incredibly cool and nice.
> 
> Song is "Time Bomb" by Rancid bc i can picture Frank listening to this song in 1995 and being like 'ok this is about me'
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 18: "I've Got You Under My Skin" Sammy Davis Jr.  
> Chapter 19: "Six Pack" Black Flag  
> Chapter 20: "The House is Haunted" Glen Gray & The Casa Loma Orchestra  
> Chapter 21: "(I Don't Stand) A Ghost of a Chance" Helen Forrest  
> Chapter 22: "Time Bomb" Rancid


	23. I'm So Afraid to Close My Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not about winning, it's about surviving.

Felix ended up being one of your greatest allies in the process of undoing all the work you and the others had started on blight serum, collapsing the Blight and his plans altogether. Felix was able to provide decades of intelligence on the cult that worshipped the Entity along with the former man who had mutated into the Blight and begun wreaking havoc on your lives. Claudette was miserable as she discussed how to best destroy the plants and prevent repopulation, her love and appreciation of botany more visible than ever. Looking around the fire and studying the tired and war torn faces of your fellow survivors after a long evening of blight destruction, something like pride swelled in your chest at how far you had come. Quentin smiled back at you from across the fire, offering a conspiratorial wink; you had friends, the kind that trusted you and believed in your abilities. In life you had been shy at best, and when you had first arrived in the Fog it was with about two tons of baggage all labeled with Danny’s name; but you had worked through it, letting the Fog transform you into someone strong, dependable and loyal. Of course, the irony of finding yourself in hell wasn’t lost on you but in this rare moment of acceptance you couldn’t help but allow a few tears to roll down your cheeks in appreciation.

Kate approached the fire with Jeff, an acoustic guitar in hand. Sensing a lull in conversation, she took a seat and began to tune the weathered old instrument. The twang of the metallic strings echoed through the dense woods, a few crows cawing in response. Jeff took a seat alongside her, happy to listen and scrawl yet another portrait of her into his ratty notebook.

The first few notes were low and eerie, Kate’s callused fingers dancing along the fret board as she plucked out the arpeggios slowly and evenly. She hummed the melody first; a solemn and mystical folk song, beautiful in its centuries old antiquity. When she finally opened her mouth to sing, her warm and scratchy voice sent chills down your spine; her musicality was amazing, and it was still surprising to know that real people could _sound_ like that.

_“My girl, my girl, don't lie to me_

_Tell me: where did you sleep last night?_

_In the pines, in the pines_

_Where the sun don't ever shine_

_I would shiver the whole night through”_

Everyone’s attention drifted to Kate, entranced by her melody. If she cared, she didn’t show it; too enraptured with the story of the song, she kept her eyes closed as she continued. There was something magical about this moment, the crackling fire and Kate’s song making you feel like witches collecting manna for their brews. It was intoxicating.

_“My girl, my girl, where will you go?_

_I'm going where the cold wind blows_

_In the pines, in the pines_

_Where the sun don't ever shine_

_I would shiver the whole night through”_

Behind you, you could hear the awkward footstep of Frank and his Legion-still bound together as one-approaching the fire to listen. He leaned against a tree, watching from a distance. In that moment, even Susie was calm, soothed by Kate’s voice. Only then did you stand, stepping away to join Frank.

_“Her husband, was a hardworking man_

_Just a mile and a half from here_

_His head was found in a driving wheel_

_But his body never was found”_

“I hate to say it, but I do miss my MTV,” you said devoid of emotion, leaning against the other side of the tree. He snorted, more of the blighted ooze dripping down his mask. You tried to imagine the soft features of a young man underneath, spoiled by the flesh-rotting toxin. Like majority of the phenomena of the Fog, it was disturbing. You snapped back to the present, trying to erase the image from your mind. 

“I miss Nirvana, their Unplugged session was life-changing,” you continued. Frank cocked his head,

“Yeah, long live Kurt. Have you ever heard the original recording of this song by Leadbelly?” he asked, nodding toward Kate who was nearing the end of the tune. You flushed in embarrassment,

“Oh, I didn’t know it was a cover.”

Frank recovered quickly, “Yeah! I mean, not to be man-splainy or whatever. That’s what it’s called right? I don’t fucking know. I just… I like music, and I have this song on a tape. So… it’s whatever.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.

It was an incredibly human moment for someone who was more heads than good ideas at the time. You laughed at his sputtering,

“That’s cool. Damn, I wish the Entity let me bring music here. I miss my mix CDs,” you said longingly.

“Well,” Frank cocked his head again. “If we make it out of this without getting everyone captured and turned into mutant lab rats, maybe I’ll come by and we can… Listen to it,” he finished lamely. Startled, you could only nod back. There was a heavy silence, until Frank broke it again.

“So, I saw your boyfriend.”

This immediately caught your attention.

“He’s not doing so well,” he continued, “the Blight has been really fucking him up with all the juice he has left. I think this might be his last ditch effort to keep his power here. It’s not going to be easy, but we’re going to have to do whatever we can to distract Ghosty long enough to immobilize the Blight.”

“What are you going to do?” you asked.

“Eh, that’s for me to figure out later,” he said cryptically, “In the meantime, I’ve got a date with the lady upstairs to help me,” he gestured vaguely over the collection of drooling faces and fading orange ooze that made up his torso, “Figure shit out.”

You nodded again, watching him as he strode away back into the deep forest. He would come back when the time came to strike. You stared in the direction of where he left, trying to decide how you felt about the words you had just exchanged. In the distance, a warm glowing light cracked down from the sky; long spidery claws unfurled and collected something from the Earth. You shivered at the appearance of Her, noticing the body curled up in her pincers to be that of the Legions. _Good luck, Frank,_ you thought to yourself. In the interim, the survivors were collecting medical supplies, firecrackers and other useful ephemera all the while praying to not be called to the trial. They couldn’t spare anything, not wanting to expose a weak spot in this final battle. Not to mention, who knows what would happen if they spawned in a match with the Blight right now. It was obvious he knew what you all were up to now, howling and snarling in the burning fields as his life’s elixir turned to ash.

However, the Entity must’ve been just as sick of the Blight’s interference as everyone else, because not a single one of you was taken by the Fog.

It was silent as the crowd of survivors huddled together at the mouth of the dark woods, Felix at the lead; since he was the one with the most direct connection with the Blight, he was the one most likely to get you all there.

“So I just close my eyes and… think of him?” Felix asked dubiously, Quentin nodding back at him wearily.

“It’s a little silly. You’ll be great,” he encouraged the newest survivor, offering him a pat on the back. Felix tensed for a moment but then accepted the pat, smiling stiffly back at Quentin. Smoothing down the wrinkles in his jacket, Felix closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. One by one, the other survivors started closing their eyes, devoting their mental energy to the Blight’s in an effort to establish a connection.

All you could bring yourself to think of was Danny.

You clenched your eyes shut, trying with all your might to make Danny know that you were coming for him, and that you were going to help him. You hoped that he could hear you; a low and garbled growl prickled behind your ears as if someone was right behind you. You spun around, to see nothing but trees. You shook your head, trying to refocus your energy. Hope was all you had left now.

“Huh, weird,” Felix said, and you opened your eyes to see the haggard ward of Crotus Penn Asylum. “Not where I expected to find him.”

“He likes to surprise people,” Yui muttered with annoyance, scanning the area for a sign of the beast.

“Oh shit, not everyone’s here,” you said, looking around and only counting about a quarter of the group.

“Whoa, unfair,” Ace said with a frown, unaware of the irony of his existence.

“We better start in,” Feng said, “Before it figures out we’re here. This time we’ll do the surprising.”

There was nodding among the group, and it seemed like a plan had been arranged. However, you couldn’t ignore the sinking sensation in your stomach telling you that someone was watching.

Rounding a corner constructed of cobbled brick and wrought iron, you found yourself dawdling after the group and creating a distance between. It became enough of a gap that when the mutated form of the Ghostface slapped a hand over your mouth and ripped you into the shadows, no one heard your screams for help.

You kicked and thrashed, biting the burning hot fingers currently sizzling third degree burns into your face. Tears streamed down your face as you fought against your lover, afraid of defeat when he clamped a hand around your throat. The wind was leaving your body and you were losing your drive; you felt yourself flopping over, letting Ghostface collect you in his fiery grip. As he tossed you over a shoulder and headed toward the basement, you hoped your friends were experiencing more success right now.

Pain bloomed in the back of your skull when the monster threw you onto the ground, your head smacking perfectly against the concrete; you could feel the wet sensation of blood collecting in a pool underneath. He growled in your face, spitting up orange flecks of ooze that burned your skin like grease from a hot pan. In that moment, you knew he really was going to kill you.

“I’m not afraid,” you said weakly to him as he crawled on top of you, prepared to plunge his knife into your sternum. He paused, the Salvador Dali-esque melting mask staring back quizzically. He brought another burning hand against your throat. You cried out, choking on the white hot burns that made your skin bubble with blisters; but you continued to stare at him, shaking your head and choking out the message again,

“I’m not afraid.”

He tossed the blade between his hands, staring at you as if deciding how to prepare a piece of meat. In a swift motion, he stabbed you in the side; you screamed in pain, arching your back in response to the blade meeting soft flesh. As a knee jerk reaction, you brought a hand over the one that held the knife; even under the layers of burnt leather and withered skin, the silver wedding band remained. Your eyes widened at the realization, tears sliding down rapidly as you attempted to plant the seed of your final plan to bring Danny back.

“Danny, you promised,” you croaked, tasting the sickly tang of blood in your mouth, “you promised you wouldn’t forget me.”

You gripped the ring on his finger, sobbing silently as the skin of your palm deteriorated in the excessive heat. He paused, looking down at the ring on his finger, and then the one on your own hand. You were hysterical from the pain of your wounds, steadily breathing in an effort to stay conscious. Taking a chance, you outstretched your arms and collected the killer in an embrace. He fought at first, but you laced together your fingers and continued to press him to your chest, your entire body on fire. This time it wasn’t like the dream; this time it fucking hurt.

“Please,” you wept as you wrenched Danny’s head into the crook of your neck, forcing him into the hug, “Come back, please… I need you, Danny.”

He was breathing hard, panting steaming hot breath into your neck that made your skin raise with gooseflesh. He inhaled, and froze. You remained still, praying that this was it. He dipped his face back into your neck and inhaled again, his arms relaxing and wrapping against you. Tense and afraid, you began to slowly stroke his back; with what remained of your voice, you sang to him,

_“With my eyes wide open I'm dreaming_

_Can it be true I'm holding you close to my heart?”_

He sighed against your cheek, and you flinched as blighted tears fell from his mask and burned away strands of your hair. Continuing, you slowly wrapped a cautious hand around the syringe buried in his back,

_“With my eyes wide open I'm dreaming_

_You're with me now sharing a vow never to part”_

With all the strength you possessed you yanked the syringe from its place, trying your best to ignore Danny’s tortured howls of agony. It was partially out, whipping around wildly as Danny thrashed in pain. Steadying your hand, you yanked the syringe again; the basement filled with sound of Danny’s scream, as he rolled off of you and into the fetal position. The syringe had exited his back and landed beside you, clattering on the floor.

Gathering the last bit of energy in you, you raised a fist and smashed the syringe putting an end to the madness once and for all.

Dwight and a few others found you and Danny in the aftermath, collecting your bodies to bring to the campfire. When it was discovered that Danny could not pass through the invisible barrier between the woods and the fire, Dwight made sure to leave the unconscious man somewhere familiar to him. Apparently Felix was able to create traps based on the layout of the building, blinding the Blight with firecrackers as the Legion cornered the creature. The Entity had separated them, finally able to perform Her work once the blighted serum had left Her children’s blood. The Legion had the Blight somewhere now, tied up and no doubt playing a full carnival’s worth of fucked up games with him. Good for them, they deserved some fun after what they had been through.

When you woke up later in a start beside the fire, poultices and healing salves laced up and down your body at Claudette’s instruction, it was at the sound of thunder cracking overhead. Claudette kneeled beside you and readjusted the wrappings as the others began investigating the noise. You looked at her confused and she simply shrugged her shoulders and offered you a smile.

“Oh my God,” Felix’s voice broke, and you turned your gaze to him. He was looking out at the entrance of the woods, a hand over his mouth in shock.

“Elodie.”

A woman emerged from the brush, her thick coils highlighted by the glow of the moon. Her dark skin and fashionable clothes were already dirty from the trees and mud; she looked like she had been running. Elodie wrapped her arms around herself as she stared back at Felix with a surprised expression of her own.

“Felix.”

Ugh, the fucking Entity.

The only constant of the Entity’s realm was that things were always changing. There would never be a day of freedom, a happily ever after where you all lived in peace. The monsters would always be there, lurking in the shadows; there would always be new innocent souls ripped prematurely from their mortal existence to participate in the fancies of a demonic god. And there would always be new and harrowing ways to experience the trials. The Entity made sure of that.

It was no way to live, and death was not an escape. And yet you remained; and you weren’t the only one. You all stayed, whether due to ingenuity or stupidity it wasn’t always clear. Maybe it was because despite it all, you still hoped someone would find a way out for all of you. Maybe it was because you were afraid of what would happen if you let go and gave into the darkness. But you all were brave enough to survive another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Tell me what you liked! Hope you enjoyed and that you are doing well and staying safe.
> 
> xx
> 
> Music Used:  
> Chapter 15: "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman" Henry Hall  
> Chapter 16: "Tainted Love" Soft Cell  
> Chapter 17: "Me and My Shadow" Peggy Lee  
> Chapter 18: "I've Got You Under My Skin" Sammy Davis Jr.  
> Chapter 19: "Six Pack" Black Flag  
> Chapter 20: "The House is Haunted" Glen Gray & The Casa Loma Orchestra  
> Chapter 21: "(I Don't Stand) A Ghost of a Chance" Helen Forrest  
> Chapter 22: "Time Bomb" Rancid  
> Chapter 23: "With My Eyes Wide Open, I'm Dreaming" Patti Page  
> "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" Leadbelly


End file.
